Yellow Wood
by amythis
Summary: In the sequel to "Eleventh Summer," Sam and Jonathan's relationship is just one of the things Tony and Angela have to deal with in 1995.
1. Path You Take

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood.

And looked down one as far as I could.

—Robert Frost, "The Road Not Taken"

###

There were times when I lost a dream or two.

Found the trail, and at the end was you.

There's a path you take and a path not taken

The choice is up to you, My Friend.

—Larry Carlton, Blake Hunter, and Robert Kraft

###

As I pull into the driveway, I'm glad to see I timed this right. Sam's car is the only one here. Of course, she might've commuted with Mom and Grandma. But in her last letter, she said she's still just working one day a week in the city. The rest of the time, she's at home.

I didn't reply to her letter. I couldn't, and not just because I'm starting to use E-mail more than snail mail these days. I wanted to wait till we could talk in person, alone.

I park the car and give myself a moment to collect my thoughts, even though I've been thinking all the way from Cambridge. Then I sigh and get out. I climb the stairs and then do my iambic knock. I want her to know that it's me. She'll be surprised but less than if she opened the door and just saw me standing there.

There's no answer at first and I wonder if maybe she isn't home. I wait a minute and then turn to go. Then I hear the door open and her "Hey, Dweeb, you're a day early."

I turn back and smile. She's not quite the way I remember of course, but she's still her. "I bought a car."

"About time."

I had a car in high school but when I went off to MIT, there didn't seem any point in keeping it. Last summer Tony let me drive his Jeep, and of course Sam had her car.

"Yeah, well."

"So you drove all the way by yourself? Or did—?"

I know what she was going to say, but I deflect it for the moment. "Yeah, it wasn't too bad, just a few hours."

"I thought you were going to fly to New York, like last year."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to talk to you."

She crosses her arms, but defensively, not hostilely. "Me?"

"Yeah, can I come in?"

"Of course. But I just put Val down for a nap, so no loud music or shouting."

"OK."

Val. Valentina Marie Micelli-Thomopolous. She was born on Valentine's Day, ironically for a child conceived in a marriage that was in its last days, although Sam didn't know about either the break-up or the conception then. And Hank was thinking about leaving Sam but hadn't made up his mind yet. (You'd think it would've made him stay, but he's an idiot. About Sam anyway.) Val's middle name is for her late grandmother of course. Her last name is hyphenated because of the circumstances of her birth. The divorce was official by then, but Hank wouldn't let Val be just a Micelli and Sam refused to let her be just a Thomopolous. A compromise. Never mind that her initials make me think of "vomit."

"Can I see her?"

"About time," she mutters. I deserve that.

"I'm sorry."

She shakes her head. "Never mind. Yeah, come on, meet your step-niece.

She leads me upstairs to her bedroom. There is no nursery here, since it wasn't exactly on Grandma's list when she redesigned the apartment a decade ago.

I try not to feel weird about going in there. When Sam and I were together, we did it in my bedroom, that one night and the morning after. I suppose if Grandma hadn't shown up, I might've been with Sam in here, although she did say she'd feel weird about it because of Hank.

He's been gone almost a year. Val is three months old. And, yeah, I'm meeting her for the first time.

I didn't plan for that. When I visited at Christmas, well, it was awkward of course, seeing Sam for the first time since the summer. When I left in early September, she was in her fourth month but not really showing. Her face was rounder I guess, but her stomach looked the same. She still had great legs.

It was a shock to see her in late December, even though I'd tried to prepare myself for it. She was in the eighth month and huge. I mean, she's petite, but she was a short, fat girl. She was still beautiful but she wasn't exactly sexy. Not repulsive, just, I don't know, motherly? And of course she wasn't in skimpy summer clothes but in winter maternity outfits. It was like she was Sam's long-lost older sister or something, not "my Sam."

And it hit more than it had in the summer, her life was all about the baby she was going to have. And I knew that that was how it should be, but I still felt like I'd lost something. Even though, yeah, she was pregnant when we had our fling. It's just she wasn't as pregnant.

But that wasn't why I didn't come to see her and the baby. Not in the hospital, and not when they came home to be spoiled by Tony.

She takes me over to the cradle, hand-made by Tony. I look down, and the sleeping little face is perfect.

"Sam," I whisper, "she's beautiful!"

"Yeah, luckily she takes after my side."

I manage not to laugh. Hank was, is, good-looking. The baby looks Mediterranean. I can see the Italian and Greek in her, even with the presumably brown eyes shut. The skin is olive as well as pink, and the bit of hair she has is dark brown.

"Come on." Sam leads me downstairs again. "So, is that why you're here? To meet her?"

"No, I could've done that later. When she's awake."

"So?" Her arms are crossed again.

"Can we sit down?"

She nods and takes a chair, so I sit on the end of the couch closest to her.

"I broke up with Susan," I blurt out.

"Oh. Then you drove alone."

"Yeah."

"Too bad. I mean, it's nice to have someone to share the driving."

"Right."

"When did you break up?"

"A couple weeks ago."

"Can I ask why?"

I take a deep breath before I answer, "Because I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Poor Susan."

"Sam."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want to know if you think about me."

She sighs. "Well, yeah, of course. But, look, Jonathan, my life is not in the same place it was a year ago."

"I hope not. A year ago you were shattered by Hank leaving you."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know."

"So what was wrong with Susan? She sounded perfect. Pretty, smart, hard-working, nerdy."

I laugh. "Yeah. No, there's nothing wrong with her. Well, she's not funny like you are, but most Business majors aren't."

"Right. But she has direction in her life, right? She knows what she wants to do. I thought that's what you were looking for."

"Yeah, I thought so, too. After, um, the craziness last summer, it was nice to be with someone less chaotic. No offence."

"None taken."

"And I was thinking maybe that was what I needed in my life. I was thinking about becoming a Business major, too."

"Yeah, that's what Angela said. But now you're not? Because you broke up with her?"

"No, it's more to do with something you said last year."

"Um, Jonathan, I said a lot of things."

"What you said about finding a major I'm passionate about. And I thought, well, I still love science. Money's nice but it's not exciting."

"Says the kid born with a silver spoon in his mouth."

"Susan also didn't have your incredible cynicism."

She laughs. "Thanks. So what kind of science?"

"That's one of the things I need to figure out this summer."

"Well, I really appreciate you telling me all this. About your break-up and your academic plans. We should have these talks more often."

"Sam, will you go out with me?"

"I can't leave Val when she's napping."

"I don't mean right this minute."

"You mean on a date?"

"Yeah."

"You want us to date? Like, officially, in public?"

"Well, we don't have to take out a notice in the paper, but yeah."

"You're crazy!"

"You could've just said you're not interested. You don't have to be rude about it."

She shakes her head. "Jonathan, I know we talked about it last year, but really? Tell Dad and Angela we want to be involved?"

"Sam, I can't sneak around with you again. It's not right. I want to be with you, but we have to be honest about it. Otherwise, it's not going to work."

"If Dad beats you to a bloody pulp, I don't think it'll work too well either."

"If we can get their permission, or blessing, or at least tolerance, would you go out with me?"

"Jonathan, if you can get Dad to let you take me out, I'll do the Hustle on the Staten Island ferry."

I grin. "OK. I'm holding you to that."

"Great. And you think your mom isn't going to be horrified?"

"No, not horrified. Surprised definitely. But she loves you."

"Well, Dad loves you, but that doesn't mean he wants you dating his precious only daughter."

"I've got all summer to work on this."

"When you're not figuring out your major."

"Right. And looking for a part-time job."

"Are you sure you're going to have time to date?"

"Hey, if a single working mother of a baby can, I certainly can."

"Jonathan, that's another thing. I'm no longer at the phase where it's hard for me to have free time enough to even shower, but Val is still taking up a lot of my time and energy, and I can't glam up for you. I'm not even sure if we can go out to the movies."

"You've got a VCR, right? We can rent."

"You're 19. Are you really sure you want to have quiet nights in? You're too young to settle down to a boring, domestic life."

"Let me decide that. And besides, I'll be with you, so how boring can it be?"

"You're really nice, you know that?"

"You could use a nice guy for a change."

She smiles. "Yeah, maybe I could." Then she sighs. "I kind of wish you hadn't brought this up though."

"Why's that?"

"Because I told myself that you'd moved on, and that that's how it should be. I was just your 'older woman.' A memory you'd always treasure and all that crap."

"Part of my crazy youth."

"Yeah."

"Well, maybe my crazy youth isn't quite over."

"Maybe not." She grins. "Maybe mine isn't either."

"I hope not. Sam, I really want to kiss you."

"I know, Dweeb. I want to kiss you, too, but let's leave it till we know we can move forward on this. Because you've stirred up a lot of buried feelings already, and we might have to bury them again, at least for awhile."

"OK." I'm disappointed but not surprised.

"So, um, how are we going about this? Do we work up to it? I mean, we can't tell them we slept together last year!"

"No, we definitely can't tell them that."

"Should we admit to kissing?"

"I'm not sure. It's probably best to limit it to we knew we had feelings but decided not to pursue it."

"Yeah, that's good. And it's not entirely a lie."

"Right. How about I bring it up when they come home?"

"OK. Do you want me there?"

"No, it's better if I do the first step on my own."  
"You sure?"

"I'm sure. But be prepared for a lot of questions at the dinner table."

She chuckles. "OK."

"Well, I guess I should go."

"Hey, College Boy, don't I get to hug you?"

"Of course."

We both stand up and embrace. I'm a little taller than I was at Christmas, and she's a lot thinner, if not as thin as she was pre-pregnancy of course. It feels really good to have her in my arms again. I hope things work out so that I can hold her a lot this summer. And maybe beyond.

She lets go first. "See you at dinner."

"Yeah, unless I'm kicked out of the house."

"See, that's where I have an advantage. Angela can't evict me from this apartment because I have an adorable baby."

"Another example of how I failed to plan ahead."


	2. Ozarks

"Whose car is that?" I ask as we pull in next to a pale green Civic.

"I don't know, but at least it's not Hank's," Tony says irritably. Sometimes he worries that Hank will use his visits to the baby as a way to get back with Sam. Tony still wishes the divorce had never happened, but he even more wishes the marriage had never happened. The thing is, then he wouldn't have a granddaughter he adores.

"Maybe it's one of Sam's friends visiting her."  
"Yeah, maybe." Tony parks the car, trying to leave space for the visitor's car. I let Mother borrow mine today, but Tony picked me up at the train station, like he used to, only now he's a college professor and my husband, rather than my housekeeper.

We get out and kiss, leaning against the Jeep. With Mother gone on an overnight date, we will have more privacy tonight than we sometimes get, and I know we've both been looking forward to it. We thought about a fancy dinner, out or in, but then we decided we'd just reheat something. After all, tomorrow night we'll have the family dinner, to welcome Jonathan home from college.

We stop kissing and head into the house. We kiss a little in the kitchen and then I say, "I'll go change." Even if we're eating leftovers, I still want to look nice for him, and nice in a different way than business-nice.

But when I enter the living room, I stop dead in my tracks. "Jonathan!"

"Hey, Mom." He comes over and gives me a hug.

Tony comes in from the kitchen. "Jonathan's here?"

"Hey, Tony." They hug, too.

"But, Sweetheart, we were supposed to pick you up at the airport tomorrow!"

"I bought a car."

"Is that yours?" Tony asks. "Nice!"

"Thanks."

"You should've let us know you were coming." I try to keep the _So we'd know we wouldn't have a romantic evening_ tone out of my voice, and add, "So we could've done something special for you tonight."

"That's OK. Besides, um, I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you did!" Tony and I carefully don't look at each other after he says that. Then he adds, "So how's school?"

"Good. Um, I'll tell you more about it later."

I'm starting to get a funny feeling about things. He did call me last week, so maybe this is related to that.

"OK," Tony says slowly. "So what brings you back early?"

"A few things."

"Like what?"

"Well, I was thinking of taking Sam out."

I stare at him. It sounds like some sort of sick joke, but his smile is nervous.

Tony claps him on the back. "Great idea! You two kids could both use some fun. You've probably been studying too hard, and of course she's got Val and her job. I keep telling her she needs to get out with her friends more."

"Well, this wouldn't be as friends."

"Come on, you guys are buddies, even if you are her 'kid brother.' It's not like the old days, when she wouldn't let you sit next to her at the movies."

"Tony," I say hoarsely, "I think he wants to ask her out on a date."

Tony chuckles. "Yeah, sure."

"Mom's right, Tony."

Now Tony stares at him. "You want to date Sam?"

Jonathan nods.

"ARE YOU INSANE?"

"Come on, Sam's not that bad."

"Ha. Ha. There is no way in hell that Sam would ever go out with you."

"Actually, she said she would if you and Mom were OK with it."  
"Well, then she must've been letting you down easy, because there is no way that I would ever approve of, of incest!" He shudders.

"It's not incest. Sam and I aren't really related."

"You grew up together!"

"We know it's weird but we have feelings for each other."

"Feelings? Both of you?"

"Well, yeah."

"She told you she has feelings for you? Non-sisterly feelings?"

"Yes."

Tony is struck speechless for a moment and then whispers, "I don't believe this!" Then he storms out the back door, presumably to Sam's apartment.

"Mom?"

"Let me sit down." I stagger over to the couch and sit.

"I know this has caught you off guard," Jonathan says as he takes a chair.

I shake my head. "I feel like I've known this subconsciously for awhile."

"Oh."

"How long have you had 'feelings' for Sam?"

"Since I was 13."

" 'If I were living in the Ozarks, I'd be married to my cousin,' " I murmur.

He laughs in confusion. "What?"

"That's what you said when you were 13 and you thought I was still treating you like a little boy. The time Mother and I got sick and you looked after things, while Tony was away."

"Oh, right. Um, I didn't have feelings for Sam yet. Not till later that year. In Jamaica."

"Oh. But weren't you with that girl Monica?"

"Monique, yeah, but I also looked at Sam one day and, um, saw her as a girl."

"Oh."

"Please don't tell Tony that part!"

I shake my head. "I don't think he would care what you thought six years ago during puberty. His concern is more what you're thinking now. And what she's thinking."

"Sam and I got close last summer, Mom, when you and Tony were away, and she was dealing with the divorce and everything."

"Oh." I honestly don't know what to say beyond that word. I feel both shocked and, not relieved of course, but strangely comforted. I've felt since our return from Italy, and even before that, when we called them from our trip, that something was different, although of course I couldn't have imagined this.

"We decided not to pursue it, with everything else going on. And I tried going out with Susan, but—"

"Is that why you broke up? Because of Sam?"

"Yes. Have you told Tony?"

"No. You said you wanted to." I laugh in disbelief. "And now I know why!"

He smiles sheepishly. "Yeah."

"Jonathan, don't think that because I'm not blowing my stack like Tony, it means I accept this."

"I know. But thank you for letting me talk about it."

I nod. "Sweetheart, maybe you and Sam have mistaken your feelings of friendship for something else."

"We don't think so. But we would like to date and explore this."

"But you're stepbrother and -sister! You can't just casually date!"

"You think I should ask her to go steady?"

"Very funny, Jonathan."

"Look, Mom, I liked Susan but the whole time I was with her, I kept thinking how much more I like Sam. And not as a sister."

"Jonathan Honey, I am trying to be as open-minded about this as I can. But she is your stepsister. Not to mention three and a half years older, and divorced and the mother of a baby."

"Mom, do you love Sam?"

"Do you?" I shoot back.

He blushes. "I feel some kind of love for her. I'm not in love with her, but I could possibly become in love with her. That's one of the things I need to find out."

"Why? Why do you have to explore it? Can't you just accept it's a bad idea?"

"No, Mom, I can't. And I know you love her."  
"Yes, like a daughter. Not like a daughter-in-law."

"I'm not asking to marry her. I just want to date her."

"What is the point, Jonathan? To go out, have a few laughs and some fun?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Jonathan, that won't work. She's not an ordinary girl you take out for fun. If you date her, everyone, not just me and Tony, is going to judge you. Why are opening yourself up to that kind of hurt?"

"So if I were in love with her, if it was some grand, operatic kind of tragic love, then I could date her?"

"No, but." I sigh. "Jonathan, you're right. I do love Sam. But, even if she weren't your stepsister, I would know that she's wrong for you."

"How do you know that?"

"How? Jonathan, she is a lovely girl. And smart, funny, good-hearted. But her heart is also incredibly susceptible. She got so attached to her boyfriends in junior high and high school. And then she became engaged to Matt, when it should've been just a summer romance. She eloped with Hank after a couple months of dating. And now you!"

"We're not engaged. We're not eloping. We're hoping to take things slow."

"Oh."

"Mom, I'm 19. I haven't dated much. A lot of this is still new to me. Sam is more experienced, but she's got a child, and that means that she's not going to do anything that would hurt Val. But our relationship isn't by definition bad."

"Val could still be hurt. And so could you two."

He swallows. "I know. But that's part of the risk of life, of caring about people."

I tear up. "How did you get to be so wise and so stupid?"

"I grew up in this family."

I laugh. "Yes." Then I sigh. "Jonathan, is there anything I can say to talk you out of this?"

"You and Tony can refuse your consent or your blessing or whatever you want to call it. Sam and I are of age, but we're not going to pursue it if it hurts the family."

I shake my head. "Then we're the bad guys. Standing in the way of young love."

"No, Mom, I understand. I think most parents would react the way you two did. If not worse. I mean, I half expected Tony to hit me or kick me out."

"Give it time to sink in. And I think right now he's hoping that Sam is going to tell him this is all a crazy prank."

"You knew it wasn't a joke, didn't you?"

"Yes, I knew."

"You're not going to hit Sam or kick her out, are you?"

"No, Jonathan, that's not how I deal with my feelings." Usually.

"Are you mad at either of us? Or disappointed?"

"Oh, Sweetheart, no, of course not!" I don't say that I of all people know what it's like to have "feelings" for your best friend, even when that friend is someone that people think you shouldn't date. Obviously, a housekeeper is less taboo than a step-sibling, but I can understand a little of what they're going through.

He stands up. "Mom, I think I'm gonna head out."

"Back to Cambridge? But you just got here!"

"No, just for tonight. I can stay at my old friend Steven's. He told me he'd be back for the summer, too. It'll give Tony a chance to cool down a little, and you more time to process this. I'll be back for dinner tomorrow, if that's OK."

"Of course it's OK, Darling!" I stand up and hug him. "You are still a part of this family. And you always will be."

"Thanks, Mom." We let go. "See you tomorrow night."  
"Take care, Jonathan."

He exits through the kitchen and presumably back to his car. I sink back onto the couch, wondering if I could've handled that better, but this is not something I ever really expected. Oh, there were moments over the last eleven years when I thought Jonathan might have a little crush on Sam, but I figured he'd grow out of it. I never imagined her returning his feelings!

But I do know that he was there for her when she needed him last summer, and that probably changed things. I want to have a talk with her, and not a "You floozy, how dare you corrupt my innocent, young son!" talk. But not tonight, I'm too drained. And the poor girl has to deal with Tony right now.


	3. Kooky

Dad's "angry knock" is as distinctive as Jonathan's "iambic hello." But it's been a very long time since I've heard Dad knock this angrily. I'm tempted to go get Val, to win some sympathy, but I woman up and decide to face him on my own.

When I told Jonathan that I'd see him at dinner, I had a hunch that Dad would be making his feelings known before dinnertime. As soon as I heard the Jeep pull up, I braced myself. Knowing Jonathan's tendency to blurt things out, he would not waste a lot of time on small talk before dropping his bombshell. And Dad would explode right after that.

"SAMANTHA!"

"Just a minute, Dad," I say as calmly as I can. "Mama," I whisper, still seeking her guidance and help as I have since last summer, "please keep your widower from going too crazy over this news. And please get me through this." Then I go to the door and say, "Hey, Dad." I don't add, "What brings you by?" or "I thought you'd be dropping by." There's no need to antagonize the charging Taurus.

"Sam, what the hell is going on here?"

"Dad, come on in. There's no need to give the neighbors something to talk about."

"Funny you should say that!" But he comes in and I close the door.

"So I guess you talked to Jonathan."

"Yes, I talked to Jonathan! Is it true?"

"Can you be more specific?" I don't mean to be cute or sarcastic, but I'm not admitting to more than I have to.

"Is it true that you two want to date?"

"Yes, it's true."

"GODDAMN HANK!" Dad shouts and punches a wall. Not hard, I mean he doesn't leave a hole. It's a mild punch, just like that was a milder swear than it could've been.

"Hank?"

"If he hadn't left you and messed up your head, you wouldn't be on the rebound for your stepbrother!"

"OK, Dad, first of all, it's been almost a year and I'm not on the rebound. And secondly, I really like Jonathan and, crazy as it may sound, I would like to go out with him."

"Your stepbrother? Your younger stepbrother? Your geeky, younger stepbrother."

"Yeah."

"You two grew up together!"

"Well, I didn't like him in this way when we were growing up. But I do now."

"Why? Because he was nice to you when Hank left? Let you cry on his shoulder a few times? Listened to your problems?"

"Well, that's part of it, yes."

"Sam, that's just common human decency."

"Is it? Chad wouldn't have done it, or Todd. Probably not Matt because he had that jealous streak, even though he was the one who ended up cheating. Jesse might've but he would've given me a bunch of pseudo-intellectual b.s. about how Hank needed to be free to define what he needed out of our relationship."

"So Jonathan's a nice guy. That doesn't mean you have to date him!"

I take a deep breath. I didn't want to have to say this to my father, but it looks like I have to. I'll at least try to put this as delicately as I can. "I want him as a boyfriend."  
"A boyfriend?! Sam, you just got out of a marriage and had a baby! I thought you were finally being sensible about men. And now you've actually topped the cowboy and the puppeteer!"

"Thanks, Dad. I didn't know you had such a low opinion of your stepson."  
"Low opinion? I love Jonathan! Jonathan's great! Nerdy and a little wimpy and apparently crazier than I ever realized, but he's great. If he were four years older and not Angela's son, you could do a hell of a lot worse."

"That's what I figure."

"Samantha."  
"Look, Dad, I told Jonathan you wouldn't go for this, but he wanted to ask you anyway. So let's just drop it."

"Just drop it?! You two say you want to commit incest—and, yes, I know you're 'not really related,' but it's still a sin—and then you just shrug and say, 'Oh, well, can't blame us for trying?' And me and Angela are just supposed to chuckle and say, 'Oh, those kooky kids of ours!'"

"Kooky?"

"And then, what? You two are going to pine for each other all summer? Or maybe the rest of your lives?"

"Dad, I want to date Jonathan. But I have other things going on in my life." I hear Val cry. "Like your granddaughter. Excuse me." I go upstairs, wondering if Dad will follow me, but he just stands there, as if the anger has faded and he's in shock.

I change Val's diaper and then decide to take her down with me. "Look who's here! It's Nonno!" I started calling him that as a joke, when he told me about my little cousin Rosita in Rome, Maurizio's daughter. (He and Lina have since had a son. We've sent each other pictures of our babies.)

Val smiles. She's just recently started really smiling. She has a beautiful smile. I can't wait till she has teeth! Well, actually, yes, I can, since I haven't weaned her yet.

"Qual è il mio bambino grande?" Dad cries. He slips into Italian sometimes since his honeymoon with Angela. But he now switches to baby-talk that isn't in any recognizable language. Well, not recognizable to me. Val looks like she understands perfectly. He takes her from me and coos and babbles, and she grins like he's utterly charming. They really are adorable together.

"Are you and your mommy coming to Uncle Jonathan's welcome-home dinner tonight?"

"Are you still having it?" I ask, since Val doesn't respond.

"Of course. It won't be as fancy as if he hadn't shown up a day early, but, yes, come over in an hour and we'll have a nice meal."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Of course, Great-Grandma won't be there, because she's got a hot date, but otherwise it'll be a nice family dinner."

I swallow. "Right, Dad." He's apparently going to pretend, at least tonight, that this never came up. I sort of wish Mona would be there for support, since she's the only one who knows about the fling. But on the other hand, she has a way of subtly teasing (and sometimes not so subtly) and I don't know if I'm ready for that. She's promised not to ever reveal the fling, but I'm guessing this is going to be awkward for her when Angela tells her about me and Jonathan wanting to date.

"Dad, how did Angela take it?"

"I don't know." He's still looking at Val, not at me. "She didn't really say much."  
"Oh." Probably not a good sign. Angela tends to bottle things up more than Dad, which I would say is due to her being a WASP, but Mona and Jonathan don't hold back like that. When Dad broke her heart over Kathleen, she did her best not to reveal the pain she was in, but that just made it worse, because no one could comfort her. Finally, I couldn't take being around the three of them anymore, which is why I fled to New Mexico. And then, yeah, I tried to convince myself that I'd found true, eternal love.

I don't want to be that stupid about Jonathan. Last year, I probably went too far in the other direction, telling him it was doomed from the start, but we could have a fling. And I ended up getting attached to him anyway. I was jealous of Susan, even though I'd told him to date if he met someone. It wasn't his fault that we couldn't be together. And it wasn't his fault that I couldn't exactly go find someone new myself, not with a baby on the way and then in my life. I told myself I'd wait till Val was older, maybe in kindergarten, or at least preschool.

And then he asked me out. I knew Dad wouldn't approve, and I figured Angela wouldn't either. But I can't help wishing that Jonathan and I could have a nice low-key relationship. Even if it was just someone to snuggle with on the couch while watching movies, that would be really nice.

Dad hands the baby back to me. "I'll go start dinner."

"OK, see you in an hour."

"Yeah, see ya." He leaves. No hug or anything. But what did I expect, really? And it could've gone worse I guess.

Still, this is going to be the awkward dinner to end all awkward dinners. I kind of wish I didn't have to go, but I can't do that to poor Jonathan. It was really brave of him taking the first step, and he's the one who has to sleep down the hall from them, while I at least have some space here in my apartment.

I play with Val a little and then nurse her, and then put her down for another nap. The phone rings and I pick it up with what I now think of as mother's reflexes. When I'd grab the phone five or ten years ago, it was because I hoped it'd be a boy, or one of my friends wanting to talk about boys. Now I just answer quickly so my baby won't be disturbed.

"Hello?" I hope it isn't Dad or Angela. Somehow, talking on the phone would be worse.

"Hey, Sam." I'm not too surprised Jonathan is whispering. He probably has to sneak in this call so they won't hear.

"Hey. How are you?"

"OK. Um, how are you?"

"Been better. But I survived phase one."  
"Yeah, me, too. Um, I'm not going to be at dinner tonight."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'm hanging out at Steven's. I figure let's give them some more time to adjust."

"So you're moving in with Steven's parents?"

He laughs. "No, it's just overnight."

"You didn't tell him what's going on, did you?"

"No, we're just catching up, on school and that kind of thing I mean. I said I'd do the family stuff tomorrow, as planned."

"Oh. So you left me to face Dad and Angela with only a baby for protection?"

"What about Grandma?"

"She's got a hot date."

"Oh. Well, can't you just not go? I mean, they're probably not desperate to have dinner with you now, are they?"

"Well, no, probably not. Yeah, I'll just bail. Say Val is fussy or something."

"OK. Um, do we have a game plan for tomorrow?"

"You're asking me? This whole dating thing was your idea!"

"I know." He sighs. "Let's just play it by ear. I mean, they may not even say anything, especially not in front of Grandma, since they think she doesn't know."

"Right. Should we warn Mona?"

"How?"

"You talk to her when she comes home."

"That might not be till tomorrow's dinner."

I know he's not joking. "Jonathan, are we really going to try to get them to accept this?"

He sighs. "Look, Sam, I see two possibilities. One, they never come around to us dating, but they know that we want to. That can't be undone. And, two, maybe they're not crazy about the idea, but they realize that they need to let us live our own lives."

I start laughing really hard, even though I know I shouldn't because I might wake up Val.

"What?"

"When have our parents ever let us live our own lives?"

"Well, there's a first time for everything."

"Right. Maybe we should wait seven or eight years like they did."

"Measuring from last summer or this one?"

I see his point. "Oh, right, we didn't exactly wait, did we?"

"A first time for everything, Sam," he teases.

"Yeah."

"Listen, I've got to go. Steven's parents want to hear all about MIT and he wants to hear about the hot chick I've been dating."

"Meaning Susan?"

"Yeah."

"Was she hot?"

"Not as hot as you, Sam. Not even close."

"Oh."

"Goodnight."

"Yeah, buonanotte." My Italian is obviously more limited than Dad's.

"Adieu, ma belle amie."

"You didn't tell me you've been taking French."

"Oh, I've learned a lot of things while I've been away." Then he hangs up.

As I set down the phone, I say, "Val, your Uncle Jonathan is proof that good boys are more trouble than bad ones."


	4. Flu?

I don't sleep well and then I wake to the sound of Angela puking.

"Oh, Sweetheart, I know!" I'm just sick about this myself, although not to that point.

"No, Tony, you don't."

I wake up more. "Angela?" I get out of bed and find her sitting on the bathroom floor. "Sweetheart?"

"Tony, can you help me clean up?"

"Yeah, of course." I get a washcloth and clean her usually beautiful blonde hair and her soft face. Then I help her to her feet. "I know this stuff with the kids is terrible, but you can't let it—"

She shakes her head. "That's not why I threw up."

"Oh. The leftovers?" They reheated OK I thought, but maybe they disagreed with her.

"No, Tony."  
"You think it might be the 24-hour flu? I heard that was going around."

"I think it's something that will last more than 24 hours."

We're standing by the bed by now, and I have to let go of her to sink down as it sinks in. "Oh, God, Angela! Not—"

"I'm not sure but I think so."

I start laughing uproariously.

She stares at me. "Well, I didn't expect that reaction."

I try to stop laughing. "I'm sorry, Baby. It's just the timing."

She nods. "Yes."

"Come on, sit next to me." She does, the two of us on the edge of our bed. I stop laughing and take her hand. "How long have you suspected?"

"I didn't, really. I've gotten my hopes up so many times, and my period isn't extremely late. And I am getting closer to perimenopause. But that felt like morning sickness, from what I remember 20 years ago."

I nod. "It sounded like it, from what I remember 23 years ago."

"Yes."

"Oh, Angela!" I kiss her cheek since she hasn't yet brushed after vomiting. "Oh, Baby, this is so wonderful!"

"Yes," she says quietly.

"What's wrong, Sweetheart? I thought you still wanted a baby."

"I did. I do. But, God, Tony, why now?"

"Baby, it's fine. This has nothing to do with the kids'—craziness."

"I suppose. But, oh, what are we going to tell them?"

"The same thing that we would've told them anyway. They'll be happy for us." I don't add, "And maybe having a half-sibling in common will knock some sense into them."

"But Sam just had her baby three months ago."

"So Val gets a little aunt or uncle to play with."

She smiles. "Yes."

"So when do you think it happened?"

Last summer, well, July mostly, we were really trying to conceive. So every time, even if we didn't say anything, we knew it was on our minds. Then after we found out Sam was pregnant, we didn't give up on a baby of our own, but we weren't deliberately trying anymore. Plus, we'd spent July in a beautiful fairytale honeymoon castle, with no cares or responsibilities. Now we're back to worrying about work and the kids, although the most recent worry is not one we anticipated.

Yes, I blame myself for agreeing to go away for so long. I'm not saying that either of the kids set out to seduce the other, but they were left on their own, and Sam was really vulnerable. I'm actually half surprised that they didn't act on it, but maybe it's taken them this long to agree they want to break the taboo. Plus she was still technically married last summer.

"The conception?" Angela's words bring me back to our situation, although I can't forget the kids entirely.

"Yeah. How far along are you?"

"I'm not sure. Like I said, I don't even know if I am pregnant. But it would've been late March I think."

"Spring Break?"

She blushes and smiles. "Yes, probably."

Although Mona has been out of college even longer than I have, she insisted on taking Spring Break from the agency. And Jonathan didn't come home. He and Susan went with some friends to Myrtle Beach. (He figured South Carolina was far enough from Florida that he wouldn't end up partying with his grandmother.) We hadn't seen him since Christmas, not even when Sam's baby was born. He had some lame excuse about wanting to spend Valentine's Day with his girlfriend, but he could've visited after, right?

I thought at the time he was too wrapped up in his first serious relationship to have time for family. But now I wonder if he was too wrapped up in thoughts of a certain family member. Was he avoiding Sam to get over her? If so, it obviously didn't work. And Angela told me last night that Jonathan broke up with Susan two weeks ago.

Anyway, I had the week off from Ridgemont, so I was home a lot during the break. And Angela decided she could work from home then and, well. I guess we made a baby.

"So you're in the second month?"

"Yes, if I am pregnant."

"Wow! Maybe we'll have a Christmas baby!"

"Maybe."

"What's wrong, Sweetheart? I thought you would be excited about this. You wanted it so much last year."

"I know, but last year it was a fantasy. Now it is, or might be, reality. Tony, I'm going to be 45 in a week!"

"Heck of a birthday gift, huh?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "Yes."

"Baby, I know it's risky but remember what you said last summer? You're in good health and you can afford good medical care. And now I have recent practice spoiling a pregnant woman. Only you'll let me pamper you without trying to be independent like Sam, right?"

"I think Dr. Hollis will insist I let you."

"Hey, can you call her today? I want to find out right away!"

"Tony, it's a Saturday. This can wait till Monday."

"OK." But I really want to know, and not just because I could use some distraction from the kids' news. "Hey, how about I buy you a home pregnancy kit?"

"You're going to just waltz into the local drugstore and buy one? What if Joanne Parker's there?"

"Hey, it's not like I was doing this five or ten years ago."

She smiles. "That would've been delicious gossip."

"Yeah." I imitate that bitch Joanne: "Well, Angela, no wonder Tony's the highest-paid housekeeper in the neighborhood!"

Angela laughs and then snuggles against me. "Thank you for cheering me up."

"Thank you for cheering me up."  
"You really want to be a father again?"

"I can't say I'm thrilled with Samantha right now, but I won't hold that against our daughter. Or son."

"Right." She sighs. "Tony, is it our fault that this happened?"

"I hope so!"

"No, not the pregnancy. The, the kids."  
I sigh. "I don't know. We raised them like siblings, right? Even before we were a couple. It felt like the right thing to do."

She nods. "I remember when I lost my job at Wallace & McQuade—"

"You mean when I lost it for you."

"Well, yes. But it was for the best. Anyway, you said we were a family. There are other women in this neighborhood, including Joanne, who say that their housekeepers and other—"

"Servants?"

"Employees. That they're just like family. But they don't mean it, not really. With us, our attraction aside, it didn't take me long to feel like I'd known you all my life."

"I know, Baby, me, too. I mean, we came from different worlds but our souls understood each other."

"That's lovely, Tony." She kisses my cheek. "I always felt like even if we never got together as a couple, you and I would always be a family. With the kids and Mother."

"Right. But now Sam and Jonathan don't feel like brother and sister."

She sighs. "Yes."

"You know I had a wonderful time with you in Italy. I will always treasure that. But I can't help feeling that if we had stayed home, then the kids wouldn't have gotten so close."

"Perhaps not. But if they have feelings for each other, maybe this would've happened someday anyway, in another form."

"I don't know. I hope not. But I just don't know what to do about it now."

"Neither do I. But I guess we can be grateful they didn't sneak around, keep it a secret. They were honest about it."

"Well, yeah. But they didn't tell us last summer how they felt. They just said they were best friends."

"We kept telling people we were best friends."

"That's not the same thing! Yeah, I didn't think I should date my boss, but it wouldn't have been immoral!"

"If it wasn't immoral, then why did Joanne use the possibility of it in her smear campaign against you?"

"Because people like Joanne see filth everywhere. And you can't compare the two situations! You and I didn't grow up together."

"No, we just kissed when we were children."

"Angela, you're not telling me you're all right with this, are you?"

"No, I'm not all right with this. It's very upsetting. But I do feel sorry for them."

I sigh. "Yeah, I can see that. I don't know, Angela. Let me put it this way, last night didn't exactly go how I hoped."

"I know. Me neither."

We did eat alone, but neither of us was in the mood for romance. We talked and then went to bed, but we just snuggled.

"Tony, lie down."

"Angela, I can't. I can't just clear my mind or—"

"Sh, sh, I know." We both lie down and she snuggles up against me again. "Tony, things are crazy right now. Even by the standards of this family."

I snort. "Yeah."

"But we will get through this. If we're lucky, the kids will get over each other. I'll have a healthy baby. And life will go on, whatever happens. I love you, and that will never change."

I kiss her cheek. "I love you, Angela. Forever and forever. No matter what happens with your kid, or my kid, or our kid."

"Good."

"You want me to fix you breakfast? Or is your stomach still upset?"

"Just juice and coffee."

"Juice and coffee? My son can't live on that!"

"Oh, your son? How do you know it's not my daughter?"

"Maybe it's twins, one of each."

"Oh God!" She gets up quickly and runs to the bathroom.

I think but don't say _Well, this is gonna be a fun summer!_ Then I get up and go hold her hair while she barfs.


	5. Westermarck

"What time are we leaving for the airport?"

Tony doesn't look up from whatever he's stirring on the stove. "We're not," he says gruffly.

"OK, so I'm back a little late, but I do want to greet my only grandson."

His back flinches but I can't see his face.

"Tony, what's going on?"

He shakes his head. I haven't been home since yesterday morning but apparently I've missed a lot. Before I can start interrogating him (and Tony has never been very good about hiding anything from me), Angela pushes through the swinging door, crying, "Tony, it's positive!" Then she whispers, "Mother!"

"Hello, Dear. Does the white stick in your hand have anything to do with why we're not going to the airport?"

"Mona, look, go in the living room. I'm trying to make dinner here. Angela will come out in a couple minutes and explain."

"All right." No point in arguing. I've learned when to let things go in this family. I push through the swinging door, but I turn my head in time to see Angela set down the stick and Tony set down the ladle. Then I hear cries of joy behind the shut door. Hm.

I sit down on the couch, wondering if I should watch TV while I wait. But I don't have to wait long.

"Hello, Mother. How was your date night?"

"Good. How was yours?"

She shakes her head.

"Apparently not as fun as your Spring Break."

She stares at me. "How do you do that?"

"What, see through you? Years of practice, Dear."

"So you've known all along that Tony and I have been trying to have a baby?"

Much as I would like to uphold my reputation for omniscience, I can't take that much credit. "No, it didn't occur to me till just a couple minutes ago. But I can do the math."

She nods. "I'll need to see my doctor of course, pinpoint this more exactly. But that's when we're thinking it was, late March."

"And you've been trying since your Italian honeymoon?"

"Yes."

"That must've been very hard on you when you found out about Sam's surprise pregnancy." I know there are moments I can tease Angela and moments that I have to be gentle.

"Yes." She sounds like she's going to cry. I pat the seat next to me, so she sits down and then I pat her hand. "I am glad that I finally got pregnant. Tony and I have wanted a child together for years."

I raise my eyebrows. "For years?"

"Since we watched Baby Clint for Norman and Libby."

"Angela, you two couldn't even admit you were in love with each other then!"

"I know, but we liked taking care of the baby together. And subconsciously I started to imagine that if I had another child, it would be with Tony."

"I see."

"And then when I realized I was in love with him, and even more so after he told me he was in love with me, I hoped that we could have a child together someday."

"I just figured you were too old."

"Mother!"

"Angela, you're the one who said that about if only you and Tony had gotten together sooner, maybe you could've had something starting with B."

"Well, at that point I was starting to wonder if he and I would ever get married. But we did, and I thought of other women who've had children after 40. So why not me?"

"Better question, why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Angela, the kids are both grown. Do you really want to start all over from Day One? Especially when you already have a step-grandbaby."

"Mother, I love Val, and Jonathan and Sam, dearly." A shadow falls over her face. (Not literally.) She hesitates and then continues. "But I never really got to have a co-parent who was there for me from Day One. Neither did Tony. First Marie raised Sam, and then Tony did."

"And Michael has been useless all along."

She doesn't argue with that. "Tony and I did get to co-parent our children together, and Billy for almost a year, and I'm grateful for that. But I still want a baby that's genetically both of ours."

"Of course, Dear, I understand that." I think of how I wanted a big family with Robert, but it didn't work out. "Still, you're almost 45."

"I know. It is risky. But I'll take what precautions I can."

"All right." I don't admit that I'm worried about her. I seldom admit that. Instead I say, "So you're going to be fat again."

She shakes her head. "I knew I could count on you to say just the right thing, Mother."

"Of course, Dear." Then we hug. "So what does Samantha think about this?"

"Um, well." She pulls away. But before she can explain further, Sam enters from the back door, with little Valentina.

"Hey, any idea how long till dinner? Oh, um, hi, Mona." Now she looks self-conscious.

"Hello, Sam. And how is my quasi-great-granddaughter?" I know, everyone thinks it's hilarious that my son-in-law being a grandfather makes me a sort of great-grandmother. Well, I am a wonderful grandmother. But at, well, over 60 but not yet 70, I honestly don't feel quite ready to take on such a stately title. (And my mother made sure to write and tell me that she does not regard "the Greco-Roman child" as any kin of hers, so she certainly doesn't want to be known as Great-Great-Nanna.) But I do see Val as family, since I've seen Sam as family ever since Angela and I took her bra-shopping. (Obviously, not a task Angela could take on on her own.)

Sam comes over and sits on my other side. She passes the baby over and I coo at and cuddle Val. I almost say something about Angela's baby, but then I realize that Sam doesn't know yet.

Let's examine the facts. Angela just took a home pregnancy test and as of yesterday morning she hadn't said a word to the kids (or me) about her hopes for a baby. Knowing her, and Tony, how they bottle some emotions up, they probably wanted to wait till they were sure. In fact, they may wait till after Angela has seen the doctor. This could be interesting.

But why's Sam acting weird? Sitting between her and Angela, I'm picking up some vibes of at least discomfort. They're being polite to each other but something is definitely off.

"Dinner should be done soon. Jonathan's going to be home in about fifteen minutes."

"Oh."

"Um, about the airport," I begin.

"He bought a car and drove home from college," Sam says quietly.

"Yes, he got here yesterday." Angela's voice is strained.

"I see." In fact, I probably see more than either of them realizes, although I'm still not exactly clear what's going on here. But I do see that it's going to be a very interesting dinner.

Jonathan's car pulls up just as Angela sets the table. I wonder where he's been all day, and why he left, but I assume all will be revealed in time, hopefully by the end of dinner.

I give him a welcome-home hug and then we all find our seats. Val is sleeping in her cradle in the living room. (Tony made two, one for home and one for Grandpa's. They look homemade but they do rock. I suppose he'll make another one for his own baby soon.)

"Just think, another month or two and—" They all look up at me, as if expecting me to spill the beans, although there's more than one pot of beans here. (Not literally. We're actually having soup, at least to start.) "And Val can use a high chair."

They all go back to eating. Hm.

"So, Jonathan, you're home early."

"Yeah, I finished up and figured I might as well come home."

"Why didn't you tell us before?"

"I, uh, I wanted it to be a surprise."

Tony huffs into his soup, but I don't think he's trying to cool it.

"Surprises can be fun."

Angela shoots me a warning look.

"But why didn't you bring Susan with you? I've been dying to meet your first serious girlfriend." Four spoons clatter into bowls. Four sets of brown eyes glare at me. I widen my own pure blue eyes. "Or did she have other plans this summer?"

As the one with the mildest temper, and as the one my question was addressed to, Jonathan recovers first and quietly replies, "We broke up."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." But I can't say I'm entirely surprised. However, I can't say that I can't say that.

"Do you want to know why they broke up?"

"Tony." Angela puts her hand on his arm, but he shakes it off.

"Well, maybe Jonathan can tell me about it later, if he's comf—"

"I'll tell you why, Mona. Because your grandson has 'feelings' for my daughter!"

"Oh, I see." I wish the kids had given me a head's up about this. I plan to deny all foreknowledge as long as possible.

"And she wants him to be her boyfriend!"

"You don't say."

"Mona, aren't you shocked? I mean, even with your wild past, you've never done anything like this."

"I don't have any stepbrothers."

"Mother."

"I mean, come on, Mone, you were a Psychology major! You've heard of Westermarck!"

"Oh, now, Dad—"

"Who's Westermarck?" Angela asks her son.

He shrugs. "He didn't come up in Intro to Psych."

"I'll tell you who Westermarck was! He was a Finnish anthropologist who said that unrelated children who are raised together, like in Israeli kibbutzes—"

"I think it's kibbutzim," I say, but Tony barrels on.

"Are never attracted to each other!"

"Actually, that was a different study, after his time. And the Westermarck effect applies to children who live together in the first few years, till about age six. Sam was a preteen and Jonathan was eight when they met each other, so by Westermarck's definition, it was already too late for reverse imprinting. And other studies have taken a neo-Freudian approach and found—"

"Mother, enough."

"Well, he brought it up. And if the kids are dating—"

"We're not," Sam says quickly.

"You're not?"

Jonathan says, "We've agreed to not date as long as they disapprove."  
"Which means never," Tony says stubbornly.

"Oh. So are we just having soup or is there an entrée?"

"Of course there's an entrée! It's Jonathan's goddamn welcome home dinner, isn't it?" Tony storms over to the oven.

"Goddamn welcome home, Jonathan."  
"Thanks, Grandma. Uh, how was your hot date?"

"Well, I've decided to become a lesbian."

They all stare at me.

"Sorry, but I had to come up with something to top the kids' quasi-incest and Angela's mid-life preg—" I break off remembering that the kids aren't supposed to know.

Now two sets of brown eyes are glaring at me, while the younger pairs widen in disbelief.


	6. Cover and Discover

"Mom, you're pregnant?"

I have to stop glaring at Mother in order to reply. "It's not definite, Sweetheart, but I think I had morning sickness this morning. And I took a home pregnancy test about an hour ago. I still have to see my doctor, but, yes, I think I'm pregnant."

"Wow! Is this what you guys want?" Sam asks.

"Yes, I've wanted it for a very long time," I say quietly. "We both have."

"Why didn't you tell me? God, the whole time I was pregnant with Val, you never said any—Oh, Angela!" Sam leans over and gives me a big hug. "I am so sorry! I didn't know!"

"I didn't want you to know. And it's fine. I'm happy for you that you had Val. I love her. And you." I start crying.

"Pregnancy hormones," Mother says sagely. I glare at her over Sam's shoulder.

"When were you going to tell us?" Jonathan asks.

"When the time was right," Tony says. He stops glaring at Mother in order to glare at Jonathan. "You know how when you've got some sensitive news to share, you want to introduce it in just the right way."

"Tony, what would've been a good way to tell you I want to date Sam?"

"Oh, I don't know. Usually, Sam tells me after the fact. 'By the way, Dad, I'm engaged to that guy you just met. By the way, Dad, Jesse and I are going steady now. By the way, Dad, I snuck out of the house to see the guy who gave me a hickey.' "

Sam pulls away from me and I can see that her face is red, probably from both anger and embarrassment.

"So what's the entrée?"

"Mother!"

"It's baked chicken with rissole potatoes on the side. Anyone got a problem with that?"

We all murmur that it sounds delicious. And we manage to either small-talk or eat in silence for the rest of the meal.

As we're finishing up, Val cries and Sam excuses herself.

"She's got a baby, Jonathan," Tony says the minute Sam leaves.

"Yeah, I know."  
"No, you don't, not really. You don't know what it's like to be a parent, especially a single parent, what kind of responsibility that is, how you worry about your child, how your child is the center of your universe."

"Angela wasn't the center of mine."

"Mother, please."

"Tony, I know how important Val is to Sam. I was the first person she told about her pregnancy. I know how much she wanted a baby, even if it was Hank's baby."

It starts to sink in more, how much they talked last summer while we were gone. Talked about really personal matters. I guess I knew that in a way, but it really hits me now.

"Well, if you know that, then you should also know that she should not be dating right now."

"You dated when you became a single parent," Mother points out.

"Sam was six years old! And I wasn't dating relatives!"

"You dated the Benedetti twins."  
"Mother." I shake my head.

"I'm not related to the Benedettis!"

"No, but in Catholicism, isn't that incest? To have sex with the sister of your lover? I mean, wasn't that the basis of Henry VIII's first divorce? He married the widow of his brother. And he slept with both Boleyn sisters, too."

"Yes, Mona, I know. I'm a History professor. And I think Henry VIII is off topic."

"He's as much on topic as Westermarck."

"I don't believe this," I mutter and get up and head into the living room.

Sam looks up from nursing Val. "How's it goin' in there?"

I shake my head. "Sometimes I wonder if it was a good idea to send him to college."

"Jonathan will decide on a new major soon. Just give him time."

"I meant your father."

She laughs. "Oh."

"Jonathan wants to change his major?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Uh, no. I guess he decided one piece of news was enough to hit us with the night he returned."

"Maybe he should've started with the major."

"Maybe. Sam, uh, could you cover up?"

"Are you afraid that Jonathan will be driven mad with lust at the sight of my uncovered chest?"

"Sam, please."

She sighs and apparently decides not to argue. "Can you hand me Val's blanket?"

I nod and get it out of the cradle. I hand it to her and she covers herself and Val in such a way that the nursing will be more discreet. Normally, I'm not a prude about this, although I was shy about breast-feeding in public with Jonathan in the '70s (when only hippies did it), but, yes, I do feel differently about this, now that I know about their "feelings."

"Are there any other rules that we should know about?" she asks as Tony strides into the room.

"You bet there are! Sam, do you have to do that in here?"

She rolls her eyes. "How about I just take Val home?"

"Do you want me to go back to Steven's?" Jonathan calls from the kitchen.

"Tony, she looks perfectly decent now," I say, feeling caught in the middle, as I often have over the years of living with them.

"It's not like Jonathan's never seen boobs before," Mother says as she comes in.

"Mother."

"Well, what do you think happens on Spring Break? All the flashing that goes on."

"Plus, you know, he did have a girlfriend," Sam points out.

I really don't want to think about whose breasts my 19-year-old son has seen.

"How about someone blindfolds me?" Jonathan suggests from the other room. "Would that make you feel better?"

"I'll go get a blindfold from my bedroom."

"Mother!"

"It's OK," Sam says, pulling her bra back up. "Val isn't that hungry. Now where can I put her down for a nap where the shouting won't disturb her?"

"I'm not going to shout," Tony says, trying to control his temper.

"No, but I might."

"Use my office," I tell Sam. She nods and Mother picks up the cradle for her.

While Tony and I are temporarily alone, I say, "What are we going to tell the kids?"

"We're going to tell them the rules if Jonathan expects to be at home this summer. And if they can't comply, well, I guess he can go visit Michael."

I don't like the idea of banishing my son. But on the other hand, I don't like the idea of having to chaperone him and Sam all summer. Especially now that I'll be distracted by my own pregnancy.

"What are the rules?" Because, honestly? I haven't any idea what we can do to stop this train now that it's left the station.

"Well, to begin with—"

"Is it safe to leave the kitchen now?"

"Yeah, come on in." Jonathan slowly enters the room. Then Tony guides him over to the furthest chair. "You sit there."

"OK." He looks both confused and amused.

Sam and Mother come back, so Tony goes over and guides Sam to the opposite chair. "You sit there."

"Where do I sit?"

"Mona, you can sit miles from here for all I care."

"Are you kidding? I'm not missing this!" She sits in the middle of the couch.

Tony and I look at each other and sigh. Then we sit on either side of Mother, each nearest our own child.

"So Rule #1 is Jonathan and I can't date, right?"

"Yeah, I thought that was implied but, yeah, fine. We'll make that #1."

"And Rule #2?" Sam has her arms crossed now.

"You two can't be alone together."

"Ever? For the whole rest of our lives? Not even when you two are dead?"

"No, just until these 'feelings' go away."

"Tony, that's a little extreme," I say.

"OK, I'll modify it. You can be in the same room together if it's completely innocent, like you're both passing through the living room. In opposite directions."

"Dad, why don't you just have me fitted for a chastity belt?"

"Don't tempt me, Samantha."

I decide I'd better speak up. "Look, rather than rules per se, why don't we just trust them? After all, they didn't have to tell us about their, their attraction. And they got through last summer without acting on it, so let's have some faith in our children. We've raised them to know right from wrong."

"Yeah, Angela, we did. But they want to date each other!"

"Can you please not shout when you're sitting next to me, Tony?" Mother requests.

"And, you, Mona!"

"Me, what?"

"What kind of example have you been setting? Sleeping with any guy with a pulse."

"Only the cute ones," Mother says, unfazed.

Tony shakes his head. "Here I've tried to teach my daughter to wait till marriage and—"

I'm not the only one who laughs.

"What?"

"Tony," I say as gently as I can, "you weren't exactly celibate between your marriages."

He blushes a little. "Well, yeah, but I didn't sleep with you."

"Not till Iowa."  
"Mother, please."

"You guys did it in Iowa?" Jonathan sounds genuinely shocked.

"Puh-lease, Jonathan, you can drop the innocent virgin act. I'm sure you did it with Susan."

"Sam, can we not talk about this right now?"

"Oo, was it Spring Break?"

"Grandma!"

"Look, it doesn't matter if Jonathan slept with his ex-girlfriend—"

"Speak for yourself, Tony," Mother and I say simultaneously and then look at each other, although I think she just wants the juicy gossip, while I'm concerned about my son.

"What I mean is, my concern is that he not sleep with Sam. Now how can we prevent this?"

"He could go to work as her housekeeper for eight years."

"Thank you, Mother."

"Look, Guys, I know you think Sam and I can't keep our hands off each other, but that's not true. We were alone last summer and—"

"And the point is we want to date. We would take it slow, emotionally, too. I have a baby and I'm not the same Sam who could run off and get engaged or elope with a guy in a few weeks."

"Slow or fast, Samantha, he's your stepbrother. I mean, there's also that he's only 19, but I know the age difference is going to matter less as time goes on. But you guys will always be family."

"OK, then there's nothing more to say, is there?" She gets to her feet.

"Sam!" he pleads.

"What do you want from me, Dad?"

"I want you to see that this is wrong."

She shakes her head. "I can't see that. Ever."  
"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, Samantha."

"And I'm sorry you feel the way you do, Dad. Angela, am I still invited to your birthday party?"

"Yes, of course, Sweetheart," I say softly.

"Then I'll see you then."  
Tony stands up. "Sam!"

"I have to take my baby home, Dad." She heads to my office again.

"Tony, go after her, say something!"

"Mone, what do you want me to do? I can't go against my own beliefs!" He looks like he's in torment. I'm not happy about this situation, but it's not the moral dilemma for me that it is for him.

"Look, why don't I just go back to MIT? They have summer housing and I can just—"

"You're not going anywhere! Jesus, I'm not trying to drive both of you away!" Tony puts his head in hands.

I get up and go to him, putting my arms around him. "It's OK, Honey, it's OK."

"Look, Guys, Sam and I are not going to do anything if you're not comfortable with it. How many times do we have to say that?"

"But you want to do something!" Tony almost sobs.

"People don't always act on their feelings," Mother points out. "You two should know that."

I'd glare at her, but I don't think she means it as teasing.

Sam emerges from my office, holding Val. "Oh, Jesus, is Dad crying?"

"I'm not crying! And don't take the Lord's name in vain!"

I don't point out that he just did.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

"You watch that smart mouth, Young Lady!"

"Why don't you ground me, Dad? No going out with college boys for a month."

"Very funny, Samantha."

"Sam," Jonathan says gently, "can I hold Val?" We all look at him in surprise. "Well, she was napping when I visited Sam yesterday."

"Yeah, of course you can." She brings her baby over to where he's still sitting and shows him how to hold her. Val smiles up at him. Sam says, "That's the infamous Uncle Jonathan you've heard so much about."

"Your future stepfather."

I cry, "Mother!", as Tony and Sam shout, "Mona!"

"Oh, come on, you were all thinking it."

Jonathan doesn't seem to hear us. He just looks down at the baby and says, "So, Valentina, it looks like you'll be getting another uncle. Or maybe an aunt."


	7. Daddy Day

"Hey, Sam, are you all right?"

I stop myself from snapping, "What do you care?" Instead I say, "Just tired. Val's been fussy."

"Well, now you can take a break and go to work," he jokes.

"Yeah." I get Val out of her cradle, which is downstairs. Sometimes I get more tired lugging her cradles and everything around than carrying her. But after one very awkward time that Hank followed me upstairs when I retrieved the baby from the bedroom, I try to have her downstairs and ready by the time he shows up for his "daddy days."

The custody agreement is what we agreed on more than what the court ordered. After all, Val is three months old. It's not like he can take her out to mini-golf and pizza, like divorced fathers of older children can. I work one day a week in the city, which is also the day he drives up from the city to take care of her. They hang out at his parents', since Joe and Fran still live in Fairfield. This way she also gets to see her other grandparents. Then he brings her back in the evening, after I get home.

He takes her from me and says, "Aw, have you been fussy? Has Valley been wrecking Mommy's sleep?"

I hate when he does that. Calls her "Valley" and me "Mommy." But in the list of misdeeds against both of us, these are minor crimes.

I do wonder sometimes, if we'd stayed together, would moments like this make me love him more? Would I get all gooey inside, seeing My Husband with Our Baby? After all, this is one of the joys of married life I had looked forward to.

Jonathan doesn't do baby-talk. He talks to Val like she's the smartest one in the family, which perhaps she is.

"Let me get the milk," I say. She doesn't like the bottle but she'll settle for it when I'm not around. I've pumped enough to get her through the day, which is a lot more unpleasant than nursing. I like nursing. It relaxes me and I like the mother-baby bonding, but I also like my job and I need the money.

Yes, Hank pays child support. Not a lot, because he's not making much as an assistant to an assistant on a TV puppet show, but it's enough for him to live on and to help us out. He saves money by living with his slightly more successful girlfriend.

Yes, he and Lisa are still together. They broke up just long enough for him to try to win me back after finding out I was expecting Val. When I said no, he waited a couple days and then went back to her. If you don't count that break, this is his second-longest relationship.

They seem to be happy. I don't see her much. They came to see the baby after she was born, although not on Valentine's Day itself of course. I would've rather have seen Jonathan. Hell, I would've rather have seen Jonathan and Susan, because it's not like Susan was the Other Woman. Jonathan and I had been uninvolved for months by the time he got with her.

Lisa is nice. I wish I could say she was a heartless bimbo (or another five-letter B-word), but she's not. Yeah, she stole a married man, but I guess in the bigger picture she did me a favor, so I can't really hate her for that. I don't even hate Hank anymore. I don't especially like him, but I don't hate him.

I don't know if they'll get married. They don't seem to be in any hurry, but then we haven't been divorced that long. But I do know it's possible she may be Val's stepmother, or someone else will be someday. Anyway, as far as I know, she doesn't see Val on daddy days. Maybe that will change when the baby is older and I let Hank take care of her overnight.

"Here you go."

"Thanks."

"You want help carrying her stuff downstairs?"

"Yeah, thanks."

He's already got Val and her cradle and now the bottle, so I get her bag with her teddy bear and the diapers and everything else that Miss Micelli-Thomopolous needs for a day out. We head down the stairs, small-talking about Val and our jobs.

"Whose Honda Civic is that?"

"Jonathan's, he just bought it. I mean, it's used but new to him."

"Nice. So he's back for the summer?"

"Well, he does live here. I mean over there." I point at the main house.

"I know, but he's 19 now and I thought he might be traveling, or working in Boston or something. Besides, doesn't he have a girlfriend?"

"They broke up."

"Oh. That's too bad."

I almost say, "Well, it's not like they were married." I say, "Thanks," although that doesn't sound right either.

"You're welcome. Tell him I say hi. He's a good kid." Hank is six years older.

"Yeah, I will." I put the bag in Hank's car and then take Val so he can stow her cradle and bottle. "Bye-bye, Baby X, you be good, OK?"

I swear she gets this expression on her little face, like _Yeah, whatever, Mom._ I kiss her goodbye. I will miss her. I miss her every Tuesday. But we've got our lives to lead, right?

I pass her back to Hank and he gets her settled into her car seat. Then he buckles up in the driver's seat. I wave goodbye and then sigh and head over to the kitchen.

Everyone looks at me when I come in and I know exactly what they're thinking. "No, I didn't tell him that I want to date Jonathan."

"It's none of his business," Angela says and I smile gratefully.

In a way, my simultaneous divorce and pregnancy helped me and Angela bond last year, even if Jonathan was a lot older than Val when his parents split up. Angela understands, and no one else I know does, what it's like to be a divorced mom. (OK, yes, technically Mrs. Rossini understands, but Joe, Jr. was grown up when Joe, Sr. ran off.) Dad and Mona know what it's like to have a spouse you dearly love die too young, and however I feel about Hank, I wouldn't want to have gone through that instead. But Angela knows how it feels to see your ex with someone else and a lot of other things I've gone through, as well as a lot I have to look forward to. I suddenly imagine Val throwing up on Lisa's wedding shoes, like Jonathan threw up on Heather's. (His stepmother, not the girl next door who gave him his first kiss.)

"What do you want for breakfast?" Dad asks. No "Sweetheart" or even "Sam." But at least we're talking.

"Just juice and toast. Thanks."

It's the first time I've seen all four of them at once since the Saturday night guts-spill-a-thon. Well, Jonathan and I managed not to reveal that we had sex last year, but we did come close to saying it. But no sense in making our case look worse.

Mona came over to my place later for a debriefing. She didn't really have any advice, other than "Give them time to come around. Your father especially."

"And if they don't?"

"Well, in two years Jonathan will be 21 and out of college. Then you two could just live how you want."

"Mona, I don't want to date him if Dad or Angela hates the idea."

"I think they will mellow in the next two years."

I don't know about that. But if she's right, well, I guess two years isn't that long to wait. And Val will be older. Of course, she'll be in the terrible twos. Maybe I will wait till she's in preschool. Not that Jonathan will necessarily stay interested that long, but if not, well, I can date someone else, right? It's just, I don't know, I want to be with him, explore that more.

Last Tuesday, the four of us talked about how we were looking forward to seeing Jonathan again. I'd had months to move him back into the "kid brother" category, no longer thinking of him as my ex, as I did through much of the Fall. It was almost like the fling and everything surrounding it was just a crazy dream. Oh, I still had moments when I'd remember it, miss him, but mostly I figured we were on the road back to platonic friendship.

This Tuesday? Quite a bit different. Following Dad's lead, we're not going to talk about it this morning, but the tension fills this tiny room. (Well, tiny compared to other rooms in Angela's house. In Brooklyn, this would be half of a studio apartment.)

Finally, it's time to head to the train station. Dad usually smiles and says something corny about his "three working girls," but not today. In some ways, this bothers me more than the silent treatment would. He's not cold or distant, but he's not my doting father either. I mean, yes, I get tired of his hovering sometimes, but I miss it when it's gone.

Angela drives. Mona sold her car a couple years back, since she hardly ever uses it. She borrows Angela's sometimes when she needs it, like for last weekend's hot date. Yes, she debriefed me on that, too, though she kept it PG-rated, the way I prefer it. I like the gossip, but I don't want the details. Charlie Briscoe hasn't yet figured this out.

The three of us don't talk much in the car. Sometimes I think it's easier when just two of the three of us talk. I mean, yes, obviously, things are awkward with me and Angela now, but I think her pregnancy will help us re-bond, despite my interest in her son.

I wait till we're on the train and Mona is flirting with a guy a few seats back to quietly ask, "Have you called Dr. Hollis yet?"

Angela nods. "I've got an appointment for a week from today."

"That's not bad."

"Yes, I'll still be in the second month. I think."

"I was in my third month by the time I saw her."

"Oh."

We've never really talked about my realization that I was pregnant, I mean not in detail. And of course I can't tell her that I came to this realization because I was making out with Jonathan and we started talking about safe sex.

"I was so out of it when Hank left."

"Yes, you told me."

"So anyway, do you and Dad want a boy or a girl? Or do you not care?"

"Either is fine with me. I just hope it has Tony's eyes."

"Angela, you have beautiful eyes!" She does, very dark, deep, and mysterious.

"Thank you. But I mean the vision. I was very happy that Jonathan didn't need glasses."

"Oh."

"You wanted a girl, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Well, I wouldn't have given Val away if she were a Valentino. But I don't know, I wanted and expected a girl, and that's what I got."

"Aren't you lucky?" There's a bitterness to her tone and I don't know how to respond. Does she envy me for some reason? There's no reason to. Yeah, she's faced some setbacks over the years, but her life is going a hell of a lot more smoothly than mine is so far. Or maybe she thinks that I'll pout and cry and get Jonathan that way. Sometimes she acts like I'm still a spoiled teenager. And I don't know how to change that view of me.

Before I can reply, Mona returns, so I turn to her and whisper, "So how'd it go?"

"Separated, underpaid, and impotent."

"Mother!"

I just stare at her. "How do you do that?"

Mona shrugs. "After all these years, you get a sense of these things."

I want to ask how, but it's not really the time or place.

The conversation lapses into small-talk and then silence. But I can't help thinking Jonathan has it worse, being home all day with Dad. No wonder he's thinking about getting a summer job.


	8. Resume

I'm glad I didn't plan anything big for Angela's birthday this year. I mean, like inviting Wendy and all her other friends over for a big party. The plan was going to be just a family party, maybe with Mrs. Rossini at most for "outsiders." But over the past week, we've agreed that the last thing we need right now is a family party. And we are not yet ready to see Mrs. Rossini. Not until we come to some kind of resolution of the problem with the kids. Yeah, yeah, I know they said they won't date if we don't want them to, but that's not enough. I want them to stop wanting to.

Also, although we're pretty sure Angela's pregnant, we want to wait a little while before telling anyone outside the family. And Angela is sure that Mrs. Rossini will just look at her and know.

"What? Through some sort of Italian folk wisdom?" I teased.

"Well, no. But she did guess in her letter that I wanted to conceive in the castle. So I feel like if she saw me in person, she would just know."

She's probably right. Even if Mrs. Rossini didn't guess, she still might say something like, "So, Angela? Forty-five, huh? You still have a little time left."

Anyway, Angela and I are just doing dinner for two, at Chez Rene, the place that "Mr. Bower" treated us to many years ago. Yeah, I bet he never thought about the fact that if he got me to marry to Angela, then that would make Sam his stepsister and thus out of bounds.

I know, I know, he was only, what, nine then? And who knew that I'd even still be working for Angela all through Sam's adolescence, and about half of Jonathan's. This wasn't supposed to be a permanent arrangement, was it?

But after, I don't know, the first three or four years? There was some point between Frankie and Jamaica when I felt like Sam and I really had put down roots here, not just in Fairfield but in this house. Yeah, sometimes I'd think about the day that I would have to leave. Angela or I might get married again, although after the Geoffrey scare, I relaxed a little about that. After I started college, then yeah, there was the idea that I'd get a job outside this house. But I figured four years was a long time. And maybe by the end of it, I could tell Angela I wanted to live with her forever.

Where did Sam fit into this? Well, I'm an Italian who believes that family should be together. But now I can't help wishing I said yes to Montague Academy, and later to Sam going away to college. I even would consider, with hindsight, letting her stay in New Mexico, maybe even marrying Matt. At least when (I'm not going to say if) that marriage broke up, Jonathan wouldn't have been around to pick up the pieces. But then I don't like the idea of my daughter spending the rest of her life Out West, not to mention that I'd hardly ever get to see the grandchildren I'd have that would be half Matt's.

I guess I'm lucky in a way that Jonathan isn't like Todd. I mean, what if Sam had a little Romeo of a stepbrother, some adolescent stud who wouldn't have waited till she was divorced to make his move?

Romeo. I wonder if the kids feel like Romeo & Juliet, star-crossed young lovers, even if she's almost a decade older than Juliet was. They aren't from "two households, both alike in dignity" who "from ancient grudge break to new mutiny." They are from one happy merged household.

Anyway, I know Angela told Sam that she was invited to her birthday party, but there is no birthday party. The three women can go to lunch in the city or something on Tuesday.

Oh, right, Angela's got her doctor's appointment then. Well, they can do something else sometime, go to a spa or whatever female bonding they want to do.

I have to admit I'm surprised and, well, disappointed in Angela. I mean, not that I wanted her to get in a fist fight with Sam, like she did with Theresa at Marty's Melody Room. (That was the first time I saw that side of her, the same side that made her punch the stand-up comic who was rude about our relationship.) But Jonathan is her little boy, like Sam is my little girl. I remember how she hyperventilated when Heather gave him a hell of a first kiss. And it's not like Angela has mellowed about being an overprotective parent. So why isn't she acting like Sam is a bimbo? I mean, come on, Sam is an older divorcee! Why does Angela feel sorry for her?

So do I want to punch Jonathan? Well, no. I mean, what has the kid done? He developed feelings for his stepsister. Yes, that's a sin, but I don't believe that thoughts are as bad as actions. I don't agree with Former President Carter that lusting in your heart is adultery. (I still look at pretty women, but I don't want to be with any of them. Not when I have Angela.)

Plus, how could I beat up Jonathan? I helped raise that kid! (Including teaching him how to fight, although I wasn't too successful there.) When Michael tried to get custody, I felt like I was going to lose my son. I wasn't just being sympathetic to Angela.

So this is a very frustrating situation for me. I can't really express my anger and disgust at either of the kids because I love them too much.

Anyway, Angela and I are going to go out, have a nice dinner, try to forget about the kids for an hour or so. I'm ready now, but I know she likes to take her time. (I lied about the time of our dinner reservations, so we've got a cushion of fifteen extra minutes.) I may as well head downstairs.

Jonathan is in the living room when I get there. We haven't exactly been avoiding each other, but we're not sitting and having man-to-man talks like when he was younger. Usually, when I see him, he's watching TV, and he'll ask if I want to join him, but I say I've got housework to do. then he'll offer to help, and I'll say it's OK, it's his summer vacation.

Tonight though, he's writing something, like filling out a form.

"Is that a job application?" I can't help asking.

"Yeah, there's an opening at Radio Shack."

"Oh, well, good luck."

"Thanks, Tony."

I almost say, "Too bad you didn't get a job there last summer, when you had too much time on your hands." But there's no point in attacking him. And he probably could've worked forty hours a week and still developed feelings for Sam on his days off.

After all, Angela was a workaholic who fell for the Micelli she came home to. Yeah, there are times when this situation with the kids feels less like incest than like some through-the-looking-glass version of me and Angela. You've got a tough but soft-hearted working-class-but-upwardly-mobile Brooklyn Italian and a nerdy but emotional upper-class-but-not-snobbish Connecticut WASP. If the kids were closer in age and if they hadn't lived like brother and sister, then their feelings would obviously make sense to me.

"Could you take a look at my résumé?" Jonathan asks.

"Yeah, sure." I remind myself I am still his father figure, even if he doesn't want Sam to be his sister. I take the other piece of paper and sit down. Knowing Angela, I could probably retype the résumé while I'm waiting.

But when I hit the word "Experience," Sam comes in from the back door, with Val. "Oh, good, you guys haven't left yet."

I look up, wondering what's going on.

"Dad, do you think Angela will mind that I got her a gift certificate? I haven't really had time to do much shopping this year."  
"Yeah, that's fine. It's the thought that counts, right?" I look at Jonathan. "What did you get your mother?"

"Oh, um, I'm kind of broke right now, after buying the Civic, so I asked her if I can give her a gift later. Either I'll make something or I'll buy her something after I get a job."

"Oh."

"That's lame, Jonathan."

"Yeah, Sam, I'm sure it doesn't show the care and attention that went into a gift certificate."

I shake my head. They still bicker like they did when they were kids. How can they not think of each other as brother and sister? I just don't understand this.

Then Mona comes in the front door. "Where's Angela?"

"Where else would she be when we have a date?"  
"Angela, get your buns down here!"

"Why didn't I think of that?" I mutter, setting down the résumé.

"I'll be right down," Angela calls, and for once she is. She looks stunning in one of her little black dresses, and I wish that we weren't coming home tonight. Or that it would be to a house that's temporarily empty of the family.

"Happy birthday, Dear," Mona says, and then slips an envelope into her hand. I wonder if it's just a card, or if she went the gift certificate route, too.

"Thank you, Mother." Angela opens the envelope but takes out a key. "What's this?"

"Your key to a night of passion. Or at least privacy."

"The Fairfield Inn, Room 203?" Angela says, reading off the key.

"Mona!" I snap.

"You don't have to go, Tony, although I think Angela will have more fun if you do."

"Mother, this is very sweet of you, but I'm afraid it's impossible."

"Oh, like you two have never checked into the Fairfield Inn before."

"WHAT?" the kids both exclaim.

"We were with other people!" I say defensively.

"What other people?" the kids demand simultaneously.

Blushing, Angela says, "I was with Geoffrey."

Sam makes a grossed-out face, like she's still the fourteen-year-old who thought Geoffrey was the worst of Angela's boyfriends. I can't help being amused and a little proud of her.

"And Tony was with Angela's sorority sister Trish."

"The one with all the hot models?" Jonathan sounds like he's thirteen again. Now Sam rolls her eyes. Disgusted or jealous?

"The other Trish," I say, annoyed. "And that was before."

"Oh, right, this was the time you were with Tina the Mini Linguini."

Both kids find this hilarious.

"Tanya the Little—Anyway, Mona, that's not the point."

"Dad, just how many times have you been to the Fairfield Inn?"

"That's none of your business, Samantha!"

"So, wait, you both had 'dates' at the same hotel? Was this on the same night?" Jonathan asks.

"Not only that, they had adjoining suites!"

"Mother, they were adjacent, not adjoining!"

"Angela, how could you tell her all this?"

"She pestered me, Tony."

Well, I can't argue with that. I can, however, argue with Mona's gift. "Mona, there is no way that we are leaving the kids overnight."

"But there's part two of the gift."

"Part two?" Angela says dubiously.

"Yes, I'm going to babysit."

"Babysit?!" Angela and I say simultaneously.

"Oo, can we play Trivial Pursuit?" Jonathan says, sounding like he's actually looking forward to this.

"And eat hot fudge sundaes?" Sam asks eagerly.

"Well, I was thinking we'd get drunk and play Truth or Dare."

"Mona!"

"She's kidding, Tony. Aren't you, Mother?"

"Of course, I am, Dear." Mona bats her eyes innocently.

Angela takes my hand, says, "Come on, Tony. We have dinner reservations," and leads me out the front door, despite my spluttering protests.


	9. Fudging the Truth

"OK, Mona, Truth. How old were you when you lost your virginity and who was it with?"

I shake my head. "No two-part questions." We agreed on that. We also agreed to no Dares, because that would be a very bad idea, especially when I'm trying to prevent them from any acts, even hand-holding, that their parents would disapprove of. However, I felt that a little truth would be a good idea.

She looks at Jonathan who nods. Then she waves her spoon at me and says, "OK, who was it with?"

I take a bite of hot fudge and then swallow. (And, no, I know better than to get these two drunk, especially together, but I've learned from observing Angela that chocolate is a very pleasant form of sublimation.) "It was James Earl Jones."

They stare at me.

"The James Earl Jones?"  
"The voice of Darth Vader?" Jonathan looks like he couldn't be more impressed if it were William Shatner. (I have boldly gone there, too, but I'm not telling them that unless they somehow ask.)

"Well, it wasn't as deep a voice then, but yes."

"So what happened?" Sam asks eagerly. I remember the little girl who was caught up in the romance of Tony and Angela's parallel "first kiss" stories.

"Well, we were engaged but my mother didn't approve because he was an actor. We met when he was doing summer stock in Maine."

"Wow, it's like having Leia and Luke as my aunt and uncle!" Jonathan marvels.

Sam smiles fondly at his geekiness.

"Well, your mother was definitely Robert's."

"I know, but still."

"A heck of a might-have-been, Mona."

"Indeed. OK, Jonathan, Truth." I hesitate. I don't want to ask anything too heavy early on. "What are you going to change your major to?"

He's got a mouthful of ice cream, as if he was expecting me to call on Sam instead. He swallows. "I'm not sure. But I'm considering Herpetology."

"You're going to study herpes?" I can't resist going for the easy joke.

"Grandma." He shakes his head.

"It's the study of snakes, right?"

"Yeah. Although entomology also interests me. Is that really your Truth question, Grandma?"

"For now."

"OK. Um, Grandma, how many times have you been engaged?"

"Can I ask a question now, before I answer that one?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess, since your last one was kind of lame."

Lame, huh? "All right. Are you two engaged?"

"Of course not!"

"We're not even dating!"

"Just checking." I didn't think so, but it's possible they've been secretly engaged all this time and just never told me for some reason, despite their honesty in other regards. On the other hand, if they were keeping it secret, I doubt they'd spill the beans during a parlor game. "To answer your question, Jonathan, I have been engaged twice as often as Sam."

"So four times?"

"Well, you certainly have the math skills to be a scientist," I tease.

"Who else besides Darth?"

"Two-parter, Jonathan."

"Oh, I thought I could go again because you asked me a question."

"How do you know I wasn't asking Sam about your engagement?"

He looks at her and she smiles.

"It's OK. I know the answer to this one. Mr. Jones, and then Mr. Nordstrom, the grandfather of this guy I dated a few years ago, and then your grandfather, Mr. Robinson. And then Max Muldoon."

"Oh, yeah, Max. I liked him. Why didn't you marry him, Grandma?"

"All right, my 'engagement' question was directed at Sam."

"OK, Mona, why didn't you marry Max?"

I sigh. Even now it's not easy for me to talk about the most serious romance of my long widowhood. "I cared very much for Max, but there were too many complications. His baby daughter, his young ex-wife, and his tendency towards fogeyism."

They laugh and then look as they're not sure they should.

"Robert and I were opposites. He was a lot like Angela. But he wasn't scared of life, like she used to be. I guess I'm looking for that magic combination again. I don't want to settle for less. But I like being single."

"Doesn't it get lonely sometimes?" Sam asks.

"It's not your turn," I say briskly.

"Whose turn is it?" Jonathan asks.

I have to think a moment. "Mine again. Jonathan." I'm hoping they won't team up again. That's why I wouldn't play Trivial Pursuit with them tonight. Even when they were little, the two of them always won against me.

"Yeah?"

"Jonathan. Truth." I hesitate and then decide to go for it. "If Tony and Angela allow you two to date, where do you hope your relationship leads?"

He blushes. "I don't know, really. Short-term, I just want to be with her. But I can't really even let myself think about it too much, because who knows when they'll change their minds? Tony especially."

"I think Angela is weakening," Sam says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she did accept Mona's birthday gift."

"Well, yeah, but she knew Grandma would be here to chaperone."  
"Exactly. Mona, you're the most implausible chaperone I've ever met, no offence."

"None taken."

"Well, anyway," Jonathan says, "I guess it's my turn."

"Wait, I have a question!" Sam says suddenly.

"OK, well, let me ask you one first."

"OK, but hurry up, because this is really important."

"Um, OK." Maybe because of the time pressure he says, "How's your job going?"

"Great. OK, Jonathan, Truth."

"Yes, Sam?"

"Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia were brother and sister?"

"Yeah, it's revealed in the third movie that they're twins."

"Oo, gross! Didn't she like give him a huge kiss in the first movie?"

"Yeah, but at that point they didn't know they were related."

"Oo, ick! And don't say it, Mona." She must've noticed my amused grin. "Jonathan and I are not blood-related."

"I think it's Jonathan's turn again."

"OK. Um, Sam." He glances at me and I pretend to find my ice cream fascinating. "If and when we get to go out, what do you want to do on the first date?"

"Do you mean like the going-out part or the physical side?"

"However you want to answer that."

She glances at me and then looks at him. "If I can get someone to babysit Val, maybe we could go out to dinner and a movie. Otherwise, we can order in, rent a movie. Or watch cable. Nothing big."

"Even that would be nice. Like I said, I just want to be with you. Even the ordinary times would be special."

"Oh, Jonathan!"

Uh oh. This is getting into dangerous territory. Even if they don't kiss, they're making eyes at each other.

"All right, enough Truth. It's storytime."

"Oh, Mona, you can't read us a trashy novel like when we were younger!"

"Yeah, now I actually know what a Size 34 dress hugging a Size 36 body actually means."

I take the book out from under my seat cushion. _"What Happened at Midnight._ Chapter One, 'Burglars.' 'What an assignment! And from our own Dad!' Joe Hardy grinned at his brother Frank as the two boys slipped into ripple soled shoes and put on dark jackets.' "

The kids are amused by my choice of reading material, especially with that misleading title, but this is what I claimed I read to them years ago, when I lied to Tony and Angela about how we spent the evening.

"Wow, I had no idea there were so many hunks in this series!" Sam exclaims when I get to Chapter Six. I've just put a lot into my recitation of "At the boathouse Jerry and Biff were waiting for them. Biff was a tall, lanky blond whose perpetual good humor was indicated by the slight tilt to the outer corners of his lips. Jerry, medium height and dark, was wiry and more serious. Both boys were agog with curiosity."

"Yeah, there are, what, two girls in this story?"

I flip back. "Well, there's 'Callie Shaw, a special friend of Frank's.' "

"Right, and Iola, that one guy's sister."

"Yes. 'A slim, dark-haired girl and very pretty.' "

"Does it explain in what way Callie Shaw is 'a special friend'?" Jonathan asks.

"Probably not." I flip towards the back.

"I always wondered if Frank had a thing for Nancy Drew. Like on the crossover episodes of the TV show with Shaun Cassidy."

"Who?"  
"God, you're young, Jonathan!"

"Oo, I remember that show!" I exclaim. "Now those were hunks!"

"I know! I was only like five or six, but the Hardy boys were like my first TV crushes. Well, them and Potsie on _Happy Days_."

Jonathan rolls his eyes but Sam doesn't notice.

"I was more of a Fonzie girl, but I know what you mean."

"What was the name of the guy who played Frank Hardy?"

"Steven Parker?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"I'm going to bed," Jonathan says. "Goodnight."

We tell him goodnight and then continue comparing TV crushes, before moving on to movie and music crushes. Obviously, there are generational differences—she can't understand why I'd throw a bra at Frank Sinatra and I could never swoon over Bon Jovi's hair—but it is fun to bond with her over this. I think we've always had more in common with each other than either of us has with Angela, although we both love her dearly of course.

The babysitting has turned into a slumber party now that the boy is gone. So we do each other's hair and talk about boys, well, men. I try to keep it relatively clean, even if she is a divorced mom. For one thing, Val wakes up in the kitchen, so Sam has to go and get her, and I try not to say anything too wild in front of the baby. (You never know what they're taking in.) And for another, Sam has a prudish streak, where she doesn't want the naughtiest details, either giving or receiving. She wants to hear about the romance, the feelings and the kissing and all that, but not so much about "gettin' sweaty" as she calls it.

Towards the end, I ask, "Sam, Truth, what would have been your answer if Jonathan meant 'the physical side'?"

She sighs. "I don't know, Mone. We rushed into that side last year, and I can't rush anymore. At this point, just holding hands on the couch would be nice. I miss the day-to-day stuff even more than sex."

"Well, wait till you're not exhausted from babycare."

She smiles. "OK, I'll take your word on that." Then she sighs. "Speaking of babycare, I think this is late enough for Val's first slumber party."

"At least till she has enough hair to style."

She chuckles and then says goodnight. I hug them both. Then when the downstairs is quiet again, I take the bowls and spoons into the kitchen, loading them into the dishwasher but not running it because it's late. I don't feel like I have to hide the evidence this time that I "stuffed the kids with hot fudge sundaes." Tony and Angela would probably be relieved that I kept things as innocent as I could.

And I really hope that they can forget the kids for tonight and enjoy my gift.


	10. Frisbee

I'm downstairs before Grandma the next morning of course. I don't know how late she and Sam stayed up talking. I eavesdropped a little after using the bathroom, but they were still talking about celebrity crushes. Sometimes when Tony's not around, I feel like this household is too female. I mean, I love all of them, but sometimes I wish I had another guy around to balance things out.

Well, maybe Mom and Tony will have a boy. God, I still can't get over the fact that she's pregnant, and I've had over a week to deal with it. In some ways, their news is as big as ours, maybe bigger. I'm happy for them, and it's not like it didn't cross my mind when I was a kid, but the older I got—and of course the older they got—the less likely it seemed.

I remember how simple things seemed nine years ago, when I fixed them up on a blind date. I was afraid that Tony would leave, like all the other housekeepers in this neighborhood. (The turnover rate is incredible, and not just because most of the neighbors aren't as nice as my mom.) I took Steven's advice and tried to get them to date and then they were supposed to fall in love and get married. Who knew it would take so damn long!

Sam, who at 13 seemed incredibly sophisticated to me, said that the difference between Mom and Tony and a married couple was S-E-X. So I asked them, "Then why don't you just have that and get it over with?" I was still young enough (and stupid enough) to ask things like that. And after Tony promised that no matter what happened, he and I would always be buddies, I guess I still wanted him to be with Mom, because I said, "But maybe someday you and Mom will change your mind and have sex anyway?"

And then I guess I thought they'd be married and maybe new parents by the time I was 11, 12 at the latest. And here I am pushing 20!

I'm worried about Mom's age. Well, Tony's, too, in that I've seen just in the past week how time- and energy-consuming babies can be. But I mean Mom is 45. That's really old to be giving birth. I guess it's safe or they wouldn't be doing this, since unlike Val, this baby is no accident. But it's still going to be hard for Mom.

Yeah, I feel guilty about the timing of telling them that Sam and I want to date, but how could I have known? And at least we didn't get seriously involved and then tell them. It could've happened that way, but it didn't. (Yes, we had sex last year, but we weren't involved exactly.)

Anyway, I have the feeling that dating is something that we need to back off from for awhile, maybe till after Mom has the baby. I was hoping to date Sam this summer, but that seems like rushing it now. Nine months, or I guess it's more like seven or eight, might be long enough for at least Mom to come around. And she has a way of making Tony accept Sam's boyfriends and dates (even Al!), so maybe even I will become acceptable in time.

I notice that Grandma loaded the dishwasher but didn't run it. I eat breakfast (I learned to feed myself simple meals during my Tony-less summer last year), and then add those dishes to the washer. I get it going and then work on my résumé till it's time to empty the washer and put everything away. Why ruin Mom's birthday weekend by having her and Tony face a bunch of dirty dishes when they return?

Then I go back in the living room and watch TV for awhile. It's close to noon when Grandma comes downstairs for brunch. She brings her food into the living room to keep me company.

"How was your slumber party?"

"Good. Sorry if we drove you away."

I shrug. "It's OK. I am glad you get along with Sam so well. It helps to have you on our side."

She sighs. "It's not a matter of sides, Jonathan. I can see how you and Sam feel about each other, but I can also understand why your parents see it the way they do."

"Yeah." But it's not like Sam and I can't understand how they feel, while I don't know if they really understand us.

"It was different with Tony and Angela. When they weren't together and should've been, and it went on like that for years, well, there was only one right side, and the three of us were on it. You, me, and Sam."

I nod. "Sometimes it felt like we were the only ones who were."

"What about Wendy Wittener?"

"I don't know. I always got the feeling that Mrs. Wittener saw Tony as a sex object."

Grandma laughs. "And what's wrong with that?"

"No, I mean, Mom saw him as a person. A handsome person but also her best friend. There are so many women in this neighborhood who have lusted after Tony, like Mrs. Wilmington."

"I didn't know you'd noticed that."

"Well, I was young and stupid and innocent, but I wasn't blind."

"No, you weren't."

"Anyway, everyone thought it was a joke that Mom could want to date her housekeeper. Some saw it as an absurd joke, and some saw it as a dirty joke."

"Did the kids at school tease you about it?" she asks, unusually sensitively.

I nod. "Yeah, and not just when he first ran for President of the Parents' Association."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Well, it wasn't all the time. And what was I supposed to say to you guys? 'Actually, Grandma's not the only one they call a bimbo'?"

"Poor Angela! And they were only kissing occasionally then. And poor you."

"Yeah. I got in some fights about it."  
"And all this time I thought it was because you were a wimp that people liked to beat up."

"Well, I didn't say I won these fights."

She gives me a quick hug. "I'm sorry, Dear."

"Thanks."

"Does Sam know about this?"

"She beat up some of the guys who beat me up. And all the girls."

Grandma does her best not to laugh. "She was quite the big sister."

"Yeah. Anyway, we talked about it a little, years ago, when I didn't understand the insults. She said some girls were catty about it, but it was different for her."

"In what way?"

"Well, you know, her dad was a stud, while my mom was a sl—bimbo."

"Yes."

"Grandma, if Sam and I do date, are people going to be meaner to her than me?"

"Yes, probably. She's the woman, and she's older, divorced, and the mother of a baby of course. You'll be the innocent young virgin she seduced."

I shake my head. "It wasn't like that. I wanted her just as much as she wanted me, maybe more. And this isn't just about sex."

"I know. But you know how people are."

"Yeah. Like when I told Steven about sleeping with Susan."

"Aha!"

I blush a little. "Let me finish. He doesn't know about Sam of course, but he'd probably think it was weird but hot. With Susan, he didn't care about hearing anything but how the sex was."

"How was it?"

"Grandma!"

"Sorry, I guess I should've asked you last night."

"I'm not telling any details, but I will say that everything, even Frisbee, was better with Sam."

"I see. Of course, you haven't played much 'Frisbee' yet."

I roll my eyes. Now I'm stuck with this stupid metaphor. "Well, right now, Sam is the only one I want to play Frisbee with."

"Do you want me to watch the baby while you two go to the park?"

That's tempting, even if it was actually Frisbee, but I'm still not clear if Tony is comfortable with me and Sam hanging out doing "buddy" things. After all, the man married his best friend, so playing the "we're just friends" card might not work with him.

Before I can decide on a reply, Tony and Mom come in the front door, wearing the clothes they left in last night. Obviously, they didn't pack for the hotel, although I guess they could've come back after dinner and before checking in. But they probably figured we'd all tease them, like we used to before they were actually a couple.

After we all say hello, but before Grandma can ask how the hotel was, Tony asks, "Where's Sam?"

"At her apartment. Where else would she be?" Grandma asks innocently, like she didn't stuff Sam full of hot fudge sundae and keep her up half the night talking about David Cassidy and whoever.

Tony shakes his head and goes over to the phone to make a call. "Sam, can you come over here now? Yes, bring Val if you want. No, I'm not gonna yell." He hangs up and shakes his head. "I think I've been controlling my temper pretty well for the past week, considering I'm Italian."

"Yes, I'm very impressed," Grandma says.

"Um, how was the hotel? I mean, as a hotel."

"Very nice," Mom says.

"Mints on the pillow and everything?" The only times I've stayed in hotels have been on family trips and Spring Break with Susan and our friends. (Yeah, we had friends in common. They all took her side in the break-up. I'm not looking forward to facing them again in the Fall, although at least they don't know about Sam yet.)

Mom smiles. "Yes."

"Good amenities?" Grandma teases.

Mom shoots her a warning look.

"So, um, Tony, why do you want to talk to Sam?" I figure I may as well know. God, I hope it's not something awful, like the desk clerk recognized the name "Micelli" because Sam went there with Hank or somebody. She told me that Hank was her first for sex, but that doesn't mean she might not have gone there to make out with someone. Or how do I know she's been "faithful" to me? After all, I dated someone else, why shouldn't she?

I tell myself I'm being crazy. A woman with a baby doesn't have a secret fling, at least not easily, especially in this family. And I have no reason to think she'd have a secret fling with anybody but me.

Tony doesn't answer and instead paces. But, after some hesitation, Mom does. "Sweetheart, we want to talk to you and Sam about your relationship."

"You're not going to put us in therapy again, are you?"

Tony snorts. "We didn't know how good we had it then."

Sam and I fought a lot when she was a junior and I was a freshman. (It was that point when I'd skipped a grade and she hadn't yet.) Not that we hadn't fought before, and not that we didn't after, but that was the year it was the worst. Some of it was like the therapist said, standard sibling rivalry, even if we weren't "siblings" yet. But also, I was 13 and first dealing with my physical attraction to Sam, and I couldn't tell anyone about it.

Maybe if I'd had private counseling, rather than family therapy, I'd have talked about it, but I hadn't had private sessions since before Tony showed up. Apparently, according to Grandma years later, I needed a male role model with Dad gone so much. Mom was thinking about getting a divorce by that point but hadn't actually filed. She was worried that a divorce might psychologically damage me, but she also knew that her marriage to Dad was unhealthy. I (and Sam told me once that this was Freudian) started collecting reptiles and insects. Yeah, Dad would bring me some back from his trips, but I'd try to get some on my own, too. Anyway, Grandma thought a macho but sensitive Italian would be a better influence than bees, lizards, or my own father. And he was, is.

"No, Darling, we're not. It's not something that I think can be cured." I notice that she said "I." However, I don't like the use of the word "cured."

Still, I take hope from this but then feel guilty. What if Sam and I ruined Mom's birthday by causing her and Tony to fight about us? Well, I guess I'll find out soon enough.

Sam and Val show up soon after that. We all sit in the living room. It feels like a living-room talk, as opposed to a kitchen talk. I can't really explain the difference easily, except that living-room talks tend to be more formal.

Sam and Val take the chair closest to the kitchen, I guess in case they need to make an escape. I envy Sam not living quite under our parents' roof. On the other hand though, I could drive back to Massachusetts if I really had to.

I take the chair opposite Sam. I figure we should sit as far apart as possible. Grandma again places herself in the middle of the couch, perhaps to show neutrality, but I think so she won't miss anything. This time, Tony sits closer to me, so that the women are all in a row, in descending order of age.

"Dad, if you've called me over here to again forbid me to date Jonathan, you could've done that over the phone."

"Actually, Sam, I wanted to give you my permission, but if you're going to get snippy with me—"

I stare at him. "You're going to let me date Sam?"

"Well, as I recall, I gave you permission to marry her when you were 13, but luckily you didn't take me up on that."

"WHAT?" Sam cries, while Mom looks amused and Grandma startled.

I laugh. "Oh, right, when I thought you were judging me for playing the accordion." I look at Sam. "His friend Bobby Governale thought Tony was one of 'the accordion bigots' who didn't want 'our kind' living next door or marrying their daughters. So then Tony told me, 'Hey, you wanna propose to Sam? You got my blessing.' "

Grandma cackles. "Well, that's really come back to bite you in the butt, hasn't it, Tony?"

"Thank you, Mona."

"Look, Jonathan and I are a long way from getting married. I don't want to get married again for a very long time, to anyone."

"We know that, Sam," Mom says. "And even if Jonathan is of age, I would not want my child getting married at 19, to anyone."

"Unlike your stepchild?"

"I wasn't thrilled about it when you did it."

"I should've listened to you when you told me to get my teenage butt home from New Mexico."  
"Wait, Sam," Tony says, "now you're saying that if I'd been stricter with you about Matt, then Hank wouldn't have happened?"

"I don't know, Dad. I guess I see things differently now that I'm a parent. I'll probably be protective with Val, just like you were with me. Of course, she'll probably be rebellious like me, but maybe she'll be more sensible. I mean, two generations of eloping before age 20 are probably enough, right?"

Grandma laughs again. "Oh, God, Val could be married by the year 2015!"

"Angela!" Tony pleads.

"Tony, it's OK," she says around Grandma, who takes the hint and trades places on the couch so that Mom can sit next to Tony and hold his hand.

"Angela, now Sam is saying I should've been stricter, so maybe we shouldn't let them—"

"Tony, we agreed."

He sighs. "OK." He looks at Sam and then at me, while Mom squeezes his hand. "I still have my objections, but you two are adults and it would be legal for you to be involved. So if you want to date, then go ahead and date."

"But, Tony, we're not going to if you feel—"

"Hey, I don't want to be the bad guy here! I love both of you and I want you to be happy. If you think you can be happy together, I'm not going to stand in your way."

"Thank you, Dad," Sam says softly, and then cuddles Val closer.

"Yeah, thank you, Tony. And I will be good to her, I promise."

"Hey, that's the one thing I don't worry about."

"Angela, I will be kind to Jonathan."

"Does that mean you'll stop calling him 'dweeb' and 'geek'?"

"I like when she calls me those names."

"Yeah, they're like pet names, right, Snake-boy?"

I blush, since that one has a special Freudian meaning between us. But I say, "Right, Colonel Porker."

"You really shouldn't make fun of her weight gain, Jonathan."

"Sorry, Mom." But it now occurs to me that "pork" has suggestive connotations, too, so I blush again.

"Angela," Tony pleads again. "This is weird in ways I couldn't have predicted."

"I know, Sweetie, but it's going to be all right, I promise."

"Well, if you say so, Baby."

Grandma grins. "That must've been one hell of a night at the Fairfield Inn."

"Shut up, Mother," Mom mutters, and now she's blushing.

Sam and I look at each other and smile as if we're pleasantly surprised and nervous as hell. And my niece? She cries.


	11. Compromises

"Angela, I don't know about this." How many times have I said that in the past twenty-four hours?

The first time was when she dragged me out of the house after Mona said she'd "babysit." But Angela said, "We've got reservations. We should at least go to dinner."

The next time was at the end of dinner and she said, "Why don't we check into the hotel? After all, Mother's paid for it and we don't have to stay all night."

And after that it was, "Well, we're so tired now, why don't we just stay till morning?"

And the next to last time, well, let me back up. Not just to how she got me to give in all those times, but to the first year we were really a couple. Now, I had kissed Angela before (once even before I knew who she really was), and those were great kisses. But when we weren't yet dating, the kisses were in isolation. They weren't leading anywhere, or meant to, although there were times when they could've.

And then she kissed me in a hotel and stopped my brain. I was angry and she put her lips on mine and suddenly made me forget my anger. She told me, "You're so easy," and I was. Not in a sexual sense per se. It wasn't like she got me into bed, not with the bad luck we were having that night. But from that night onward, she learned that she had a power over me, just from kissing.

Not that every kiss is manipulation, and not that manipulation is necessarily bad. Angela is not an evil person. She has a pure soul, even when she's naughty. She uses this superpower for good purposes.

So she kissed me before she said we should at least go to dinner. And, well, there was no harm in that, right? I mean, we had to eat, and it was her birthday, not to mention our first date in awhile. And it wasn't like the kids were going to end up in bed during the dinner hour, right? Even with a dubious chaperone like Mona.

We did our best not to talk about the kids during dinner. She told me about work and I told her what I'm planning for the Fall classes. I wondered if we should discuss what we're going to do with our schedules once the baby's born, but I decided that could wait till after she sees Dr. Hollis. For all I know, her doctor will ask her to cut back on her work schedule during the pregnancy. We're going to have to make adjustments, but not right away of course.

After I paid the bill and we headed out to the car, she said, "Thank you for dinner, Tony," and gave me a little kiss.

I said, "You're welcome. Sorry it wasn't more. I mean more for your birthday." I wondered if it was safe to stay out a little later and take her dancing. After all, she'll have to hang up her dancing shoes for a few months this Fall and Winter.

But before I could suggest that, she suggested going to the hotel.

"Oh, gee, Angela, I don't know."

Then she gave me a big kiss. My brain could only focus on her mouth. I mean my upstairs brain. My downstairs brain was, well, focusing downstairs. We hadn't had sex since the kids revealed their "feelings." It'd been over a week, which for us is a very long time. (The longest break we've ever taken was after we started having sex in Iowa and then she left me for a couple months. And let me put it this way, she had the tux off me and I had the pink robe and towel off her within an hour of my return.)

Finding out that the boy I practically raised wants to date my daughter hasn't quite killed my libido, but it's been close. Yet that kiss made me forget just about everyone else in the world, and the next thing I knew, well, the #203 key was in the lock.

The rooms at the Fairfield Inn are very nice. But when I came here with Trish, it was mostly to keep from fooling around in Angela's house. Even though I lived there, it wouldn't have felt right. Not so much because I was interested in Angela, since the feelings were milder then, but because it would've been weird to have sex down the hall from where my boss was sleeping. More importantly, the kids were further down the hall. As a widower, I had always had my overnight dates at the women's apartments (none of them lived in houses), leaving Sam in the care of Mrs. Rossini. When I was in Brooklyn I mean. On the road, I acted like a bachelor, especially when I was with Betty.

Also, I figured that if I was supposed to be some sort of role model for Jonathan, it wouldn't be good for the kid to see me tomcatting around. Not that I was as wild in Fairfield as I was in Brooklyn, and after the first year or two I settled down more. It was a bunch of reasons. The kids were getting older and noticing things more, and I realized I had to also set an example for Sam, who's always been quick to pick up on what she considers sexist hypocrisy.

And, looking back, I guess I was falling for Angela, although I would've and did deny it at the time. Soon I turned into the Connecticut family man. Batman was dead, long live Ward Cleaver.

But I did try one last time, I mean seriously try, to be the ladies' man I'd prided myself on being for so many years. Angela was dating Geoffrey. It seemed pretty serious, although I didn't know at that point that it would end up with, and end with, a proposal. So I gave Tanya a call. I'd dated (and would continue to date) women I met in Connecticut, but I wanted someone who reminded me of my youth. It wasn't just that she was Italian. It wasn't just that we met at Pitkin High. It was that this was the girl I had a hot pre-Marie (hell, even pre-Benedetti) "relationship" with. She was my first and we were still attracted to each other almost 20 years later.

And then, yeah, I couldn't fool around with Tanya in the house, even though it was empty that night, because it was where "the family" lived. So we ended up at the same hotel as Angela and Geoffrey. And, yeah, I wished that I could trade rooms and partners. (Tanya might've been good for Geoffrey, shaken him up a little.) But of course that was impossible. I'd already made my decision a couple months before, when I let Angela dance with Geoffrey. She couldn't date her housekeeper. I couldn't date my boss. And a night at the Fairfield Inn with Angela could never be just sex, like it was with Trish and then Tanya.

I really did plan to not spend the whole night last night. I thought _Well, really, if we went to see a movie or went dancing, that would take longer._ But I forgot to count foreplay, and afterplay, and snuggling afterwards. And it had felt so great to be back inside Angela, the idea of making love again in the morning sounded really good, because I knew she didn't just mean we should sleep and then leave first thing in the morning.

So we made love again in the morning. I was still sleepy enough that I half forgot about anyone else but her: my wife, my best friend, the blonde with the long legs.

It was only later, as I was getting dressed, in my clothes of last night, that I let myself think of the kids, wonder what happened while we were gone. "Uh, Angela, do you think everything is OK back at the house?"

She was pulling on her pantyhose and I got distracted. "I'm sure it's fine, Tony."

"Yeah, fine," I murmured.

"I was thinking, Tony."

"Hm?"

"What if we let the kids date?"

"What, Angela? Are you crazy?"

"Tony, can you zip up my dress?"

"Yeah, sure."

She stood up and came over. She lifted her hair, exposing that long neck, and I had to remind myself that I was supposed to move the zipper up, not down.

"What I was thinking is, we're assuming it'll lead to something. But what if they date and there just isn't enough there to build to a relationship? They could go out once or twice and then realize it won't work. If we don't let them, it may get built up into something it's not."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," I said, thinking about kissing her neck and then down her back.

"So they'd kiss a little. Would that be the end of the world?"

That snapped me out of it. "Kiss?"

"Well, they said they'd take it slow."

"Angela, I don't know about this."

"Well, isn't it better if it's just kissing instead of more?"

"Yeah, but the idea of them kissing is enough to weird me out."

"Well, I doubt they'd do it in front of us."

"What about her and Hank? Giggling in bed down the hallway from me!"

"Hank wasn't my son. And they were married."

"Yeah, but—" The word "married" reminded me of something. I shook my head and said, "I guess this is sort of my fault."

"What is?"

Then I told her about the "accordion bigot" thing.

She laughed and then shook her head. "He had a crush on her back then."

"He did?" Oh, sweet Jesus, this was worse than I thought!

"Yes, he told me last weekend, it started around that time. And I did sometimes wonder, over the years. Sam is so pretty and, well, he's just younger enough to become infatuated with her."

"Jonathan was the one guy I thought I didn't have to worry about."

"I know, Darling. And I don't think she saw him that way, especially back then. It's probably because they became closer last summer, with all she was going through."

"Yeah. But here it is almost a year later, and he's been away most of the time, but she wants him as her boyfriend."

"Yes."

I shook my head again. "I don't know, maybe you're right, but I still have a lot of reservations."

"I know. I have my own. I think we need to be honest with them about how we feel. But, like it or not, they are adults."

"Yeah." I sighed. "If this had happened two or three years ago, we could've forbidden it since Jonathan would've been underage."

"Well, two or three years ago, Sam was happily married to Hank."

"Yeah." It's almost enough to make me miss the philandering puppeteer.

So we went home and had the talk with the kids and then we showered and changed. The afternoon was relatively quiet.

Then Sam and the baby came over for dinner and "they" gave Angela a gift certificate for Bloomingdale's. After Angela hugged Sam in thanks, Sam said, "You're welcome. And Jonathan and I want to thank you for being so cool about, about everything."

"You're welcome," Angela said quietly.

"We do want to talk to you a little more about it," Jonathan said.

"In the living room. Mona, can you watch Val?"

"Of course, Dear," Mona said, taking the baby, which surprised me. You'd think she'd want to hear this. But maybe the kids had already conferred with her. (I get the feeling that they see her as an ally, which maybe she is, I don't know.)

So the kids got up and went through the swinging door. I looked at my wife and again said, "Angela, I don't know about this."

She gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, no mind-melting lip-lock. "Tony, we need to hear what they have to say."

So now I'm going in the living room to hear more about a topic I didn't want to hear anything about to begin with. Angela and I sit on the couch, holding hands. The kids take the chairs again.

"Well?" I say.

"Tony, I called Sam before supper and we talked about this, and we've agreed we're not going to date yet."

"Oh." I digest that. "Yet?"

"Not till Jonathan gets a job."

"Oh."

"Sweetheart, we're not asking for any conditions."

"I know, Mom, but this way you guys have a little longer to get used to the idea. And it'll prove to Tony that I'm responsible."

"Well, that's more than the puppeteer offered," I admit.

"Dad."

"Look, I know Jonathan's applying different places, but what if he doesn't find a summer job?"

Sam says, "Then we won't date this summer."

"Oh."

"It might turn out I don't find anything till I graduate."

"Sweetie, I'm sure something will come along."

"Angela."

"But not necessarily right away." She looks from Jonathan to Sam and then back at Jonathan. "If this is what you two want, it sounds sensible to me."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Yeah, thanks, Angela."  
"Wait a minute, so you two aren't dating. What about dealing with your feelings in the meantime? Are you guys gonna be making goo-goo eyes at each other and flirting and everything?"

"Not in front of you two."  
Jonathan says, "We wouldn't do that even if we were dating."

I sigh. "Well, this isn't a great compromise, but it is a compromise. So, um, thank you I guess."

"Thank you, Dad." Sam comes over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "I've got to get Val home." And then she leaves through the kitchen.

I look at Jonathan, who coughs and says, "Well, I've got to work on my applications." He heads upstairs.

I look at Angela and say, "I don't know about this."

"Would a kiss help?"  
"Probably not, but it's worth trying."


	12. Blindside

"Yes, Angela, you're pregnant."

I promptly burst into tears. As always, Dr. Hollis has a box of tissues handy.

"Are these happy tears or sad tears?"

"They're very mixed-up tears."

"I see. Do you want to talk about it?"

I nod. "That would help." I need to talk to someone outside the family, and I can't see confiding in Wendy or even Isabel, although the latter is a doctor.

"Go on."

"Well, you know how much I wanted a baby last year. I guess I was living in a fantasy world, the perfect honeymoon with the perfect husband."

"And it wasn't perfect?"

"No, it was. He was. He is. But while we were away, it appears that Jonathan and Sam developed feelings for each other."

"I see."

"Well, her husband left her right after getting her pregnant."

"Yes, she told me of course."

"Right. Well, you know what a sweet boy Jonathan can be. And he listened to her problems and, well, anyway now she doesn't have as many problems, but they want to date. Am I making any sense?"

"Yes, I understand. And you feel that now things aren't so perfect anymore."

"Well, I'd settle for normal."

She laughs and I grimace.

"Angela, I understand that you feel that this is bad timing. I mean the pregnancy. But you and Tony want a baby together, and have wanted one for a very long time. Don't let the actions or feelings of your other children spoil that for you."

"That's not all."

"Oh?"

"Doctor, I must be crazy! I'm 45 years old! What am I doing having a baby?"

"Um, didn't this occur to you last year?"

"Well, yes, in an abstract way. But now it's real, with morning sickness and the whole deal."

"I see. Do you regret getting pregnant?"

"No, no, not regret! I'm very happy. It's just that it's not a nice pure happiness."

"Few things in life are."

I sigh and nod. "I should know that by now, shouldn't I?"

"It's human to forget that."

"I suppose."

"On the good news front, you and the baby seem to be very healthy, although I may want to do amniocentesis later on."

"Because of my advanced age?"

"Well, yes."

"Are there any precautions I should be taking?"

"Not as yet, although I would suggest you not work yourself too hard."

"Define 'too hard.' "

"Angela, I know how driven you are. In fact, I was surprised and impressed that you could have a lazy month or two of vacation last year. Of course, even then you had a project."

Right, to get pregnant. Who knew all I needed was being alone in the house with Tony for a week?

"And I understand that you will probably want to keep working till the very end of your pregnancy, but that just may not be possible. You may also find you can't go back to work afterwards as soon as you like. And, yes, I know you did with Jonathan, but you were younger then and had more to prove."

I nod. This woman knows me too well, in some ways better than any of my therapists ever have.

"Let's just take this one step at a time, all right?"

"All right."

Then she gives me some general advice about taking care of my health and then we say goodbye and I go to her receptionist and make an appointment for a month from now. Then I go outside and wait for Tony.

He wanted to come with me, but there was a last-minute History Department meeting, even for the staff who aren't doing summer classes. So he dropped me off and promised to pick me up. I wonder if I have time for a smoothie next door. I remember meeting Sam there, after I talked to Dr. Hollis in August, just after Sam's check-up. Nine months ago, it seems like another life. And Sam must've known then that she had feelings for Jonathan, but I can see why she didn't confide in me then. She and I haven't really talked about this situation, not even to the extent that I've talked to Jonathan.

Before I can decide about the smoothie, Tony's Jeep pulls up. I smile and get in.

"Well?" he asks before starting the car, even before I can buckle up.

"Yes," I say, grinning.

"Oh, Honey!" He gives me a big hug and smooch. There is something about it being officially verified by a doctor that makes this feel more real. And despite my doubts, and his, we are happy about this. We did indeed wait a long time for this moment.

Then someone honks as if they want this parking space, so I buckle up and then Tony pulls out. As we head home, I fill him in on some of what Dr. Hollis said. (I leave out the part about the kids of course.) It's not till we're halfway home that I ask, "So how was your meeting?"

"Uh, yeah, Angela, about that." He pulls over again.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, not wrong. Actually, it's good news in a way. But I did tell Dean Brown I'd discuss it with you first."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, one of the other professors is taking the summer off, due to stress, and they want me to take over his classes."

"Oh, I see."

"It would just be June and July, and I might be taking time off when you're further along, or after the baby's born, so it might be good to get the extra money now. What do you think?"

"I, I think it's a good idea, if that's what you want to do."

"Yeah, I do. You know me, I hate just sitting around doing nothing. I mean, it was great having the honeymoon last year, but I don't want to just hang around the house all day while everyone else is at work."

"Yes." I don't say that he's probably not eager to keep hanging around the house with Jonathan in the interval before Jonathan finds a job.

"I mean, if you think you need me to be around during the first trimester, going into the second one, then just say so."

"No, Tony, I'm going to keep working through at least the summer. You should, too."

"OK, great." He kisses my cheek. "Let's head home. Unless you want to go into the City after all."

"No, I want to have a quiet day at home, to reflect."

He shakes his head. "I've had enough of those lately."

"Right."

Jonathan isn't home when we get there.

"Maybe he's turning in an application."

"Yeah, maybe. Uh, would you like some company while you reflect?"

"Yes, but I don't think it'll be quiet anymore."

"You won't even know I'm there."

"Somehow I doubt that."

...

"There, right there, Tony!"

"Does that feel good, Baby?"

"Yesyesyesyesyes!"

It's the first time we've had sex where we know it definitely won't lead to conception. Now we're in the phase of pregnancy between confirmation and inconvenience. I remember this from almost twenty years ago, with Michael. And I remember how young and handsome he was. Tony was even younger and more handsome when he got Marie pregnant. In fact, he wasn't much older than Jonathan is now.

"Oh, God, stop!"

"Baby, what's wrong?"

I pull away and start crying, curled up in a little ball.

"Angela, talk to me! You're scaring me!"

How can I say to him that I'm scared that Jonathan might get Sam pregnant? Tony already has enough reservations about their relationship. Yes, I'm sure the kids will try to be safe, but Sam has already had one unintended pregnancy, and I don't want to see her life or my son's ruined by another.

"Can I hold you?" he asks.

I nod. "Yes, please."

He puts his arms around me cautiously, as if I'm fragile. "Is this a pregnancy thing?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

I take a deep breath and say, "Tony, what if, well, what if Jonathan gets Sam pregnant?"

"Well, at least we know the baby won't be a mutant like if they were blood-related."

I turn to look at him. "That is not the reaction I was expecting."

"What? You thought I was gonna go full-on Italian father and say I'd beat up Jonathan and then make him marry her?"

"Well, no, but I thought the idea would upset you more than this."

He chuckles. "Angela, I've already processed that thought. I mean, it's not just because of sin that I don't want them going to bed together."

"Oh."

"But worse case scenario? Well, I guess we'd deal with it if it happened. We wouldn't disown them or anything."

"Of course not!"

"If we're lucky, well, it's like you said, this may fizzle out before it gets too, um, involved."

I sigh. "True."  
"Angela, come on, we can't let this interfere with us."

"I know, Tony, I'm sorry."

He kisses my forehead. "It gets to me, too, Baby."

"Maybe we shouldn't have given permission."

He shakes his head. "It's too late, Angela, we can't un-know what we know. And maybe in time we'll, not get used to it, but, I don't know."

"Not have it blindside us like this?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe we can try again later."  
"No pressure, Sweetheart."

"OK." I sigh. "Is this how you felt in the hotel?"

"I was just trying to blank my mind out of everything but you."

"I think I think too much."

"Yeah, I know."

"Sorry."

"It's OK. Sometimes I do, too."

We snuggle and then kiss. We don't let it build into anything sexual. It's mostly for comfort and I suppose solidarity. We really are in this together—all of it, the pregnancy and the kids and anything else life throws at us.

After awhile, I get up and take a shower, while he gets dressed and goes downstairs to make lunch. By the time I go to the kitchen, he's talking with Jonathan about the job-hunt, and you'd never guess the fears that Tony has of him and for him. I follow his lead and act as if everything's normal.

In the afternoon, I do my best to focus on the account I brought home especially for today. If I'd found out I wasn't actually pregnant, I think there would've been both disappointment and relief. But in any case, I knew I would need distraction.

After awhile, I manage to tell myself that the world outside my home office does not exist, at least not right now. I wish I could do that in the bedroom, but I guess that will take practice.

I lose myself in the campaign, so I'm startled when Tony knocks and says, "Uh, Angela, could you come out here?"

I glance at the time. It's too early for dinner. Mother and Sam aren't even home yet. "Yes, I'll be right out." I'm almost afraid to see what this is about, but I suppose I can't let Tony face it alone.

When I go out into the living room and am greeted with "Yo," I wish I had gone into work today.


	13. Wilma

It felt strange to not have Angela on the Tuesday morning commute. But it was a chance to talk to Mona in relative privacy. Yes, we talked a lot on Saturday night, but a couple things have happened since. We talked on the way into the city and then on the way back. She's cautiously optimistic, since Dad came around faster than we expected. Yes, he's not thrilled about it, but he's not screaming or punching. And she thinks the "Jonathan getting a job first" offer is a good idea. We're totally sincere about it, but we do know it makes us look better, him especially.

I left my car at the Fairfield train station, since Dad had a last-minute department meeting, Jonathan was turning in an application, and Angela had her appointment. (I wonder how that went. What if it turns out she's not actually pregnant? After all, she is 45 and it might be menopause.)

Anyway, it just seemed easiest for me to drive us to and from the station. I'll drop off Mona at home and then call up Hank to see if Fran and Joe want him and Val to stay for dinner. (Sometimes they do, sometimes they don't.) And then if they do, I'll either have dinner on my own or have it over at the main house, depending on what kind of vibe I'm getting from Dad and Angela. (If she's not pregnant, they may be too disappointed to want me and Val over. Sometimes I get the feeling that Angela is jealous that I had a baby, much as she loves Val and is/was happy for me.)

But when we get home there's an unfamiliar and very expensive car in the driveway.

"Uh, were you expecting someone, Mona?"

"Not that I know of, but I do lose track sometimes."

I shake my head. As we get out of the car, Jonathan comes out from the kitchen. "Sam, you need to get in here, quick!"

"What now?"

Before he can tell me, I hear, "Hey, Barf-breath!"

"Pig-face?" I automatically use the nickname of fifteen years ago, even if Charlie Briscoe is now one of New York's top models.

She comes out and gives me a hug. "Hey, lookin' good, Micelli. You're not nearly as fat as Al said."

"Thanks."

"I think his cousin will like you."  
"His cousin?"  
"She and Al are inviting you on a double date," Jonathan says.

"Yeah, Tony says you don't get out much since the baby, and, well, I know it's short notice, but you wanna come?"

"Oh. Um, Charlie, can I speak to you privately?"

"Not in front of the kid? Yeah, OK."

I smile at "the kid," who rolls his eyes. Then I lead Charlie upstairs to my apartment. If Al and his cousin are here, I'm definitely not going in the main house till they leave.

Charlie waits till I close the door behind her before she says, "Look, Sam, if you're worried about Al's cousin, he's almost as cute and not as stupid."

I can't help but be amused. Even though I introduced Al and Charlie in hopes they'd hit it off, I knew she wouldn't exactly get mushy about him, and she hasn't. (God knows he hasn't gotten mushy about her!) They do seem to really like each other, but of course they'll never admit anything beyond that the sex is amazing. (Which I really don't want to know.)

"That's great, but, uh, I'm not ready to date again."

"Sam, it's just dinner and a movie. And again, I'm sorry it's short notice, but we can go out this weekend instead if you want."

"Why don't you set him up with one of your friends from the agency?"

"Those stuck-up bitches?" Charlie has not exactly befriended the other models. "They'd only look down on Guido. He needs a nice, sensible Brooklyn girl. And despite your years in Happy Swell Meadows, you don't have your head too far up your ass."

"Thank you."

"Look, if you're worried about putting out, don't sweat it. I told him you're getting over a divorce and you just had a baby."

"What a fun date I sound like."

"Hey, you wanna do him, knock yourself out. He's probably a decent lay."

"Again, Charlie, thank you. But no."

"Come on, at least meet the guy before you say no."

"I can't."

"Why the hell not? You still hung up on Hank the Cowdog?"

I laugh, even though it's not the first time she's made that joke. When I first told her I got married to a guy named Hank, she thought I meant the New Mexican cowboy, and she said it would've made more sense if Matt had been named Hank and vice versa. And since the divorce, she likes to call my ex-husband "the Cowdog," like in the children's books.

"No, I'm definitely over him."

"Are you bitter about the divorce? Is that it? Not every guy's gonna cheat on you, Sam."

"Yes, I know."

"Oh God, Micelli!"

"What, Briscoe?"

"You've got a new guy, don't you?"

"Um, not exactly."

"But you're interested in someone, aren't you? Who is he?"

I could try lying, but what's the point? If Jonathan and I are going to be taking this public soon, we may as well start with someone I've known forever, someone who doesn't live in Fairfield.

"OK, I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone, not even Al."  
"What do you mean 'not even Al'? First of all, I don't tell him nothin', and secondly we're sisters, Betty."

I smile. "OK, Wilma." I sigh. "It's Jonathan."

"Jonathan who?"

"Jonathan Bower."

"Your stepbrother? The WASP?"

I laugh. Jonathan's ethnicity is the least of my concerns. "That's the one."

She sinks into a chair. "Wow, Micelli, I was not expecting that!"

"I know."

"Poor kid."  
"Thanks a lot."

"Nah, not 'cause you like him. Well, I mean, yeah, because of that, but not that there's anything wrong with you. I just mean you've got a lot of baggage for a nineteen-year-old to take on."

"Yeah, I know."

"So I'm guessing from his reaction to the double date, he knows how you feel and he feels the same."

"Yeah, he does." I sit on the couch.

"Wow! OK, and I guess Tony and Angela know, from how they reacted."

"Yeah, they know."

"And they haven't sent Jonathan back to Harvard?"

"MIT, and no. In fact, well, they're not happy about it, but they've given us permission to date."

"Tony Micelli is allowing this?"

"Yeah."

"It's the end of the world!"

I smile a little. "I hope not."

"So what's it like dating your stepbrother?"

I have to proceed very carefully from this point. I may've sworn her to secrecy, but I'm not admitting the fling to anyone new unless I have to. "I don't know. We haven't gone out yet."

"But you're going to?"

"Yes." I decide not to go into the whole thing about Jonathan finding a job first.

"I don't know what to say."

"I understand."

"I mean, I'm not judgin' you, Betty. God knows I've done some crazy shit in my life. But if you and Jonathan have the hots for each other, why not just sneak around?"

"He thought we should be honest about it. Not treat our relationship like there's something wrong with it."

"He's a brave kid."

"Do you have to keep calling him a kid?"

"Hey, look, these days anyone under 21 looks like a kid to me."

"The hard life of a New York model?"

"Hey, you scoff but it ain't all glamour. I see more of the seedy underbelly of life than I ever did on Pitkin Avenue."

"And how is your mother?"  
"Very funny, Sam."

"Anyway, Wilma, you see now why I don't want you blabbing this to Al."  
"Yeah, of course. I'll just tell him and Guido it's too soon for you to be dating again."

"Thanks."

"Of course if you two are going public, you know Al is gonna find out, right?"

"Right." I sigh. "And Mrs. Rossini."

"Oh, shit, I forgot about her."

"Well, you didn't grow up with her being an honorary grandmother."

"True. More like a distant cousin. By the way, you should hear her on the topic of me and Al getting married."

"Married? You're not—"

"You kiddin' me? The last thing either of us wants to do is get married. But she spends half her time dropping hints about what a good provider Al would be—like I need a beautician supporting me—and the other half trying to matchmake us with other people!"

I laugh. "She sounds a little conflicted."

"And we can't exactly tell her that we're mostly in it for the sex."

"Sure, Briscoe."

"What? You think me and Al have deep intellectual conversations?"

"No, but I know you two have fun together. He likes beer and bowling and all the things that the men in the world of modeling think are trashy."

"Well, yeah, don't get me wrong. He is fun, even out of bed, but that's all it is, fun. Why does everyone think it has to lead to something serious?"

I smile. "I guess 'everyone' is a romantic."

"Well, not me. Is that what you're looking for with Jonathan?"

"What? Sex or intellectual conversations? Or bowling?"

"Well, he's a college boy. Sorry, college man. So I'm assuming he'll want both sex and intellectual conversations. I don't know about bowling. But I meant are you looking for romance with Jonathan?"

"Yes," I say quietly.

"Aw, Betty, that's sweet!"

"Don't make fun of me."  
"I'm not. It's not what I want, but it's what you've wanted since we were little and we'd watch all those sappy movies on TV with princesses or whoever getting their dream guys."

I'd forgotten we did that. I remember that we'd also watch action and horror, because we were tomboys.

"So if Bower is your blond prince, good luck to you."

"Well, I don't know about that."  
"Hey, at least he's not a dwarf."

"Right."

"Anyway, I gotta get back to the guys. You sure you don't want to come? Just as a friend?"

"Well." It would be fun, and it's not like it would be cheating on Jonathan.

The phone rings. "Just a second. Hello?"

"Hey, Sam, you hadn't called yet and I wanted you to know that I'm going to be heading back to the city. But Mom and Dad can keep watching Val if you have plans."

"No, that's OK. I'll come get her after dinner if that works for everyone."

"I can drop her off on my way to the station."

"No, it's fine, I don't mind going over."

"OK, thanks, Sam. See you next week."

"Yeah, see ya."

"What was that about?" Charlie asks after I hang up.

"You're really nosy, Briscoe."

"Tell me somethin' I don't know."

I shake my head. "Just a child custody discussion."

"And people wonder why I never married."

"Yeah, you're such a spinster."

"Hey, listen, in the modeling world, this is middle age."

"Well, you carry it well."

"Thanks. So I take it you're not goin' with us, are you?"

"No, sorry. I just want a quiet evening at home with my baby."

"So what happens to these quiet evenings when you and the college man start dating?"

"There will be three of us having the quiet evenings."

"Wow, Betty, if you'd told me you were having an illicit affair, I'd have expected something juicier than this."

"Sorry."

She shrugs. "Well, I guess this is how you do illicit in Connecticut."

I laugh. "You clearly have never met Diane Wilmington."

"No, but she sounds more fun than you. I wonder if she's busy tonight."

"Yeah, why don't you set her up with Guido? She used to have the hots for my dad so she'd probably go for a young Italian stud."

"Actually, Guido is 50, fat, and balding. I just didn't want to tell you in case that wasn't your type."

"Oh darn, it is."

"You snooze you lose, Barf-breath. Now where does this Wilmington broad live?"


	14. Any Questions?

I remember to shake his hand at the end and thank him for the opportunity to tell him why I think I'd be a valuable member of the Radio Shack team.

"You're welcome. Do you have any questions?"

"Um, how soon will I hear back?"

"Well, Monday is Memorial Day, so let's say Tuesday at the soonest, next Friday at the latest."

"Great, thank you, Sir. Have a good weekend."

"You, too, Jonathan."

As I head out to the car, I feel like this is all happening so fast. Not that I'll necessarily get the job, but I turned in my application on Tuesday, got the call about the interview on Wednesday, and here it is Friday.

If I don't get it, well, I'll turn in some other applications that I've been working on, but this is my first choice. I still don't know what field of science I'll go into, but this should be good experience in any case. And it'll be nice to have some spending money this summer. And, OK, it'll mean that I can start seeing Sam.

Yeah, I know we didn't have to make the offer about me being employed before taking Sam out, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Plus, now Tony's working this summer, so I don't want to be the only one hanging out at home all day. It was different last year.

OK, I'll admit that I'm nervous about dating Sam. In a totally different way than I was nervous about the fling. Then I was afraid of sex (while really wanting it) and afraid of developing feelings for Sam (which I guess was inevitable). This is actually scarier because there will be witnesses. If things hadn't worked out with the fling, well, it was just a fling. If this doesn't work, people will know. And whether or not it works, people will have an opinion on it.

Sam told me she told Charlie. Not about the fling. So far, Grandma and Dr. Hollis are still the only ones who know what really happened last summer, and they don't know everything.

I was annoyed that she told Charlie, but I understand. And she's right, it's not supposed to be a secret. Still, I really hope Charlie doesn't tell Al. I'm not ready to deal with that yet.

It's kind of weird to remember that Sam went out with Al. She's told me that he was too crude for her, which isn't much of a surprise. I mean, I guess I can be pretty crude, too, but more in a gross geek sort of way, like when I applied Grandma's lessons on using my nose for a juice dispenser. Anyway, she was 16 and he was 19 or 20, which yeah, is the same age difference between me and her, except that no one (except Tony) cares if the guy is older.

When I was 16, Sam was already married to Hank. I knew I had to really start getting over her, but I was 16. I couldn't stop my attraction. At least I never acted on it, and never would've, if she hadn't started things last summer.

She had a chance to get back with Hank, when he found out she was pregnant, but, although she was tempted, she said no. And she could've gone out with Guido the other night. I mean, he seemed like a nice enough guy, although he didn't say much. But she told me that she'd rather wait for me, and it's not like she's desperate to date.

She's never had trouble attracting guys. In all the years I've known her, there's maybe been one or two she wanted and couldn't have, and that includes her grad student crush (even older than Al), and he turned out to be married and oblivious to her interest. I in contrast, well, there was the time I spent most of Spring Break calling up different girls, hoping just one would say she'd go out with me. Grandma actually felt sorry for me, so you know how pathetic I was.

Let's face it, even if Sam and I were the same age, she would be totally out of my league. But then, if Mom and Tony (who have a two-year age difference) had dated in high school, people would've wondered what a good-looking, popular jock was doing with the shy, mousy, fat girl with glasses, braces. and acne.

When it was mostly just our secret, mine and Sam's, there was no one to say, "Hey, Bower, you think you're good enough for a hot, popular girl like her?" I didn't even really say it to myself, because I didn't feel like Jonathan the Geek, or at least if I did, it didn't feel like it was a bad thing. She liked that I was a nerdy nice guy. It seemed to be what she needed after the crap Hank and to a lesser degree Matt put her through.

And, yes, I know we're not who we were, say, five years ago. But it's not like I grew up to be cool. Even Mom hasn't managed that, and she's been out of high school for over 25 years. She is elegant, graceful, and I guess beautiful, but she's not cool. The Micellis just are naturally cool, without trying. Even with lingering pregnancy weight and a tendency to be sloppy on her days off (which I understand, she's got a little baby to take care of), Sam still looks amazing. Even dressed for an interview, I look like I'm hours away from a bad hair day and like my clothes are the wrong size. (OK, this is a hand-me-down suit from Tony, but he did clean and press it for me.)

I can't help feeling like, aside from the age difference and the step-sibling-hood, people are going to look at me and Sam and say, "What's she doing with him?"

And then there is the age difference and the step-sibling-hood. The people who know us are going to at best think it's weird and at worst think it's disgusting. Even strangers will probably think I look too young for her. Maybe I should grow some facial hair.

God, it is weird! I'm just remembering how she used to make fun of me when I first got old enough to shave. I'm dating that girl! The girl who used to make fun of me for all sorts of things, especially when we were both teenagers. What am I doing?

The problem is, I like her. A lot. And we've both grown up since then. And even if it is weird, who cares what people think? Well, we care, but what matters most is what we think, right?

When I get home, I tell Tony how the interview went. He again wishes me luck, even though it brings me one step closer to dating his daughter. Then I let him get back to planning out his summer classes.

I want to go over to Sam's but I feel self-conscious about it during this limbo period, before we're officially dating. So instead I go upstairs, take the phone extension into my bedroom and call her. (I know, I should get a cellular phone. Well, maybe once I get a job.)

She doesn't pick up right away, but I'm used to that. Sometimes she's taking care of Val and can't get to the phone. I'll listen to her voice on the answering machine and then say something like, "Hey, Sam, just wanted to catch up. Talk to you later." She usually doesn't call back unless she's sure that Tony or Mom won't answer. She feels self-conscious about this, too.

I get as far as "Hey, Sam—" when she picks up.

"Sorry about that. I just got her Royal Highness to sleep."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake her?"

"No, it's fine. How was your interview?"

So we talk about that. I remember going to KFC with her ten months ago, after she interviewed for her current job. It seems like another life.

"So what are we going to do if you get this job?"

I laugh in relief. This is weird for her, too. She's as scared as I am. After all, she hasn't dated anyone new in over three years, and that was definitely another life.

"Make the best of it," I say. "Take it slow. And if it feels too uncomfortable, we just end it. It's like when we, um." I can't say it out loud. I'm always half afraid Tony will be listening in on one of the extensions downstairs. He never acts like it, but I wouldn't put it past him. Eavesdropping is a hobby in this family. (Grandma, however, is the only one who spies on the neighbors with binoculars. You should hear what she told us about Guido and Mrs. Wilmington!)

"Right." She probably has the same suspicions I do. "We're going to see how it goes. And if it's just not working out, then we drop it."

"OK."

"So if you get the job, you want to come over next weekend?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Cool. I may even cook."

"Striped food?" I say, since we did blue and orange at crucial points.

"Hm, yeah, I could do that. Or spotted. We'll see."

"I look forward to it."

"You have to pay for the movie rental though."

"Hey, you're the one with an established career."

"Just because I'm a feminist, it doesn't mean I don't want to be courted. I learned that from your mother."

"OK. Maybe I'll bring you flowers, like your father taught me."

"Jonny, this is so weird."

"I know, Sammy, I know."

"No, don't call me that. It sounds like Sammy Davis, Jr., or Sammy Hagar."

"Mantha?"

"Hm, maybe. Let me think about that one." Val starts crying in the background. "Sorry, I've got to go."

"OK, talk to you later."

After we hang up and I return the phone to the hallway, I go back to my room and just lie on my bed, thinking about everything, including something I still haven't processed, although it was confirmed on Tuesday.

Sam and I are going to have a half-sibling in common. What will that be like? I do know it won't be like when Billy was here, an outsider who arrived at age five with his own personality. This will be a helpless little baby, like Val. It will bond Tony and Mom in a new way. And what will it mean for me and Sam? We're grown up. Maybe she'll keep living over the garage, but she's got her own life. So do I. What are my responsibilities to this little brother or sister?

One thing, and I haven't talked to anyone about this. Not Mom, not Tony, not Grandma, not even Sam. But I've been thinking about transferring to Yale. After all, New Haven is a lot closer to Fairfield than Cambridge is. And it's an equally good school for the natural sciences as MIT is.

That way, I can be around when Mom and Tony's baby is little, visit more often. I don't know where life will take me after college, but I can at least be a presence in my brother or sister's life in the beginning.

And, yes, it'll be easier to see Sam. I know, things might not work out with us. But what if they do? I don't want to be away from her for months at a time. It was different before, I was trying to get over her.

I won't decide anything just yet. I don't even know what my major will be, and I'll be a junior next year. There's still so much that's up in the air with my life. It seems like last summer Sam had all the drama and change, while I just drifted in her wake. And now she's got stability and I'm the one shaking things up.

I won't go as crazy as Mom did in Jamaica, but I do get tired of being the sensible, practical one sometimes. Of course, in my case, cutting loose seems to be taking the form of hopefully finding a career and a meaningful relationship. But becoming a herpetologist and dating Sam aren't exactly traditional ways to go about this.


	15. Multi-Generational

Sam and I took Angela out for a belated birthday luncheon today. Yesterday was the Memorial Day barbecue. It rained, but that wasn't going to stop Tony of course. The man once threw a barbecue in the snow after all.

For a city boy who had lived only in apartments and hotel rooms, he certainly adapted quickly to life in a house. I hadn't even considered that aspect when I first met him. Yes, I knew he wanted a better life for his daughter, and in a way I wanted a better life for my daughter (well, sex life anyway), but I hadn't realized that his "home" side was looking for an outlet. It didn't become apparent immediately, but that was an early hint. And by the time he rejected my very singles-friendly apartment for the quiet life with Angela across the driveway, the writing was on the wall.

He invited the neighbors over yesterday, although I know he hesitated, now that he knows that the kids want to date and that soon the neighbors will know, too. This may've been the last social occasion where it's still a secret. Sam and Jonathan were very good, treating each other completely normally, that is with sarcasm mixed with indifference. And she had the excuse of the baby, if any questions got too awkward.

Angela and Tony agreed that they would not announce her pregnancy just yet, so that, too, remains a secret in the neighborhood, although it may be nearly as hot a topic when it's revealed. After all, for years, everyone (all right, self included) gossiped about Angela and Tony, and it's not like the gossip died down with their marriage. He's no longer her housekeeper, but he was for eight years, and they still have very different backgrounds. Yes, he's now a teacher, a noble and respectable profession (not that housekeeper wasn't, but the neighbors did look down on him), but it's not like he'll ever make as much money as Angela will.

And, yes, Sam's young marriage being followed by a divorce and a baby offered much fodder for gossip. Also, my life, which I'm not ashamed of, has always lent itself to gossip, although the truth is actually wilder than any rumors I've ever heard.

The only one who hasn't really been gossiped about is Jonathan. He was such a good, if weird, kid and teenager, and now he's doing well at college and, a Spring Break trip with his then-girlfriend aside, he's been living as cleanly as Angela did in the Woodstock era. It's brave of him to consider exposing himself to gossip by dating Sam, but I think he's crazy about her, crazier than he'll admit, even to himself. I have a hunch for these things.

Anyway, it was fun to see everyone from the Hendersons to the Witteners and know something they don't know. I think both Bower-Micelli couples were worried I'd spill the beans, intentionally or not, but I didn't even tease. I have enough opportunity to do that without outsiders around, and I'm actually enjoying this pre-public phase. There will be time enough for the phase of the world finding out the two big secrets.

Of course, I had no need to hide anything at our luncheon today, so I teased Angela about being pregnant and I (more gently) teased Sam about Jonathan. They both seem annoyed but they're used to me of course, and I think they were grateful that at least I did it among strangers.

It still doesn't feel entirely real to me that I'm getting another grandchild. Sam's pregnancy was less of a surprise, because she's younger and because she's more impulsive. Still, now that I know, it all makes sense that Angela was trying to get pregnant last summer. And, with her usual tendency to overdo things, she couldn't just book a week in the Bahamas with Tony, she had to rent an entire Italian castle for a month, not to mention the two-week cruise.

Anyway, I'm happy about the baby. Well, and worried about Angela of course, but not telling her that, because the last thing my worrywart daughter needs is someone adding to her worries. I try to focus on the idea of another cute little ankle-biter, like Val. If I live to be at least as old as my mother is now, I'll get to see both babies grow up, go to college, maybe have babies of their own.

One thing that's in the back of my mind, and I am not about to bring this up with Angela or anyone, is that as far as I know Michael and Heather are still trying to have a baby. And you'd think she'd have a better chance of getting pregnant than Angela would, considering she's more than a decade younger. However, she's not married to an ageless Italian stud, so it may take longer.

If they succeed, how will that affect our lives, particularly Jonathan's? After all, he'll have two baby half-siblings. He doesn't see Michael that often. (The elder Mr. Bower lost most of his interest in fathering when he had to deal with reality, like vomiting, so it's surprising he's willing to try again, but I suspect this is mostly Heather's idea and the baby will be mostly her responsibility.) Anyway, although Jonathan doesn't see Michael much, I think he'll want to get to know his West Coast brother or sister.

He hasn't spent much time with Val yet of course. Yes, Sam brings the baby over—they're still pretty inseparable—but I think Jonathan hasn't fully realized how time- and energy-consuming babies are. I could see that causing problems in their relationship, that he won't have Sam's full attention, but who knows? Maybe he'll end up being a natural at babycare. And maybe he's so crazy about Sam that her motherly side is part of what he likes about her.

He did say to me the other day that Sam looks like some of the Italian paintings of the Madonna, but then he immediately turned it into a joke about the rock star, probably because I was about to tease him. He may change his tune when he has to be around Val when she's teething or otherwise in one of a baby's many difficult phases. He may find himself wishing he'd stayed with the no-nonsense child-free Business major.

Yes, I'm curious to see how all this plays out. I love to spy on the neighbors (heck, they spy on me, so it's only fair), but there's something to be said for a real-life soap opera right in my own home.

As much fun as I had in Hollywood last year—and it was fun, despite Norman—I did miss everyone, and not just for the drama. I was worried for a little while there that Angela and Tony might send Jonathan away, because of his feelings for Sam, but it looks like he'll be here through the summer. And presumably, if things do work out with Sam, he may visit during his junior year, and not just at Christmas.

How long do I think this will last? Good question. There were times when I didn't think Tony and Angela would last past the first year of living together. But I had to keep hoping that Fate would bring them together for good. Even when his all-nighter with a certain blonde study buddy turned into a several-monther, I tried to believe that things would work out for him and Angela. But it did get frustrating waiting so long. They seemed perfectly fine with taking it slow, but as their most loyal audience, I did get discouraged at times.

The kids at least have an excuse, well, several excuses, for taking things slow. And they don't mean Tony & Angela slow. I know they probably won't hop into bed as quickly or as easily as they did last summer (and I am still doing my best to keep that secret), but I will be quite surprised if they don't succumb by the time Jonathan heads back to MIT.

Yes, last year I discouraged them continuing the physical side of their relationship, but that was last year. Sam was still married and pregnant. Jonathan was even more innocent and inexperienced than he is now. I don't really have any objections to them going to bed now, although I understand Tony and Angela's perspective, too. Believe it or not, there have been times (well, maybe half a dozen) when I've worried that my child was taking on more than she could handle. But you have to let go a bit, even when you're as overprotective as Angela and Tony.

Even though we took Angela to a classy restaurant, Sam and I still had the waitstaff sing "Happy Birthday." Angela was thoroughly embarrassed, and not just because it was ten days late. But it was an "Oh, Mother" sort of embarrassment, not a run-out-of-the-room-crying sort of embarrassment.

I told Sam, "You can do this to Val in a few decades."

"I look forward to it." Then she shook her head. "God, when Val's Angela's age, I'll be ancient!"

"Thank you," Angela and I both said.

"Hey, no offence. You both look incredible. I hope I age that well."

"You're Italian," I said, "you will."

Forty-five years from now, Sam will be 67. And I, I will presumably be dead. At least I hope so.

Oh, don't get me wrong. I'd love to be around to see what happens to this family after I'm gone. I just don't want to be old-old. I don't mind being a "mature woman," as long as I can act immaturely when I want.

Much as I enjoyed commuting with just Sam last week, it was nice to be back to our three-of-us journey again this week. Angela says that her doctor has not yet advised her to take time off for pregnancy, but she will have to at some point I'm sure.

I know I could never have had a baby at her age, even if I hadn't had my medical issues. Imagine, I would've given birth in '76 or '77! Around the same time that Jonathan was born. I wouldn't have wanted to then, not when I was hitting singles bars and discos as often as I could. But had Robert lived, then, well, yes, I could see having our sixth child then if that was how things had turned out.

I wonder what Angela would've been like if she hadn't been an only child. Maybe not so high-strung and insecure. Or maybe she would've ended up being even more responsible and un-impulsive, trying to set a good example for her little brothers and sisters.

And if Robert had still died when Angela was 14, but as the father of four or five children, perhaps Angela would've felt even more compelled to take on the role of "the grown-up." Or maybe I would've pulled myself together more. It's hard to say.

If, God forbid, anything ever happened to Tony, I think Angela would be braver and stronger than I was. But she would also close herself off emotionally, in a different way than I did. After a year of mourning, I threw myself into fun, laughter, and sex, not wanting to think about anything serious. Angela would probably associate fun, laughter, and sex with Tony, and not allow herself to share them with anyone else again. She'd probably become a workaholic again, and maybe raise her younger child as overprotectively as she raised Jonathan.

If Tony lost Angela, I think it would devastate him. He'd probably react like I did when I lost Robert, because that's the impression I got of how he reacted when he lost Marie. There would be no baseball groupies to distract him from his pain and loneliness this time, but I'm sure there would be no shortage of women who'd be after him. I just don't think he'd let himself fall in love again, not after losing two wives he adored.

"Hey, Mone, why do you look so serious?"

I smile. Sam started calling me that last summer, a sign that she and I were becoming closer to being peers, despite my being about triple her age. Her father started calling me that early on in our friendship.

"Oh, I was just thinking that I won't have Angela to make fun of on our commutes or at the office when she goes on maternity leave."

"Oh, Mother, you can still mock me at home."

Sam laughs and I let myself imagine for a moment the three of us, in another dozen years, taking Val and Angela's baby (if it's a girl, too) to Bloomingdale's for their first "grown-up" outfits, from bras to shoes. I hope I at least live that long.


	16. Videos

It's really hard to figure out what movie to rent. I wish Sam was here, but she told me Val was being difficult and I should just pick out whatever sounded good.

I don't want to rent anything she's already seen. And I don't know what genre to pick. For instance, we both like horror, but is that good on a first date? And then, normally on a first date, you're looking to get acquainted, find out the person's likes and dislikes, fears and desires, thoughts and dreams. I already know a lot of that about Sam, so I don't really need a movie that will provoke discussion.

I pick up one called _Clerks_ and take it over to the guy at the register. "Is this any good?"

"Sir, you just busted my irony-meter."

"Uh, OK, sorry." I go and put it back.

I keep looking and then I close my eyes and just pick one at random. As I open my eyes, a girl says, "You're renting _Little Women_?"

"Oh, hi, Jenny." Great, Jenny Wittener, my first crush. I haven't seen much of her since I graduated a year ahead of her.

"Don't get me wrong, it's a pretty good adaptation and Christian Bale is really cute."

"Oh, good."

She looks at me funny.

"I mean, it's for Sam. Sam and Mom. Girls' night in."

"Oh. That's nice of you to rent a movie for them."

"Yeah, well, I was getting one for myself, too." I grab another one randomly.

" _The Mighty Ducks 2_?"

I put it back. "Yeah, you're right, not as good as the first one."

She hands me one. "This is pretty funny."

I look at it. _Addams Family Values._ Talk about busting the irony-meter. Still, I saw and liked the first movie and I haven't seen this one. I don't think Sam has either.

"Thanks, Jenny. Good choice."

"You're welcome. Um, if you want some company watching it, I don't mind seeing it again."

Oh God, is she hitting on me? Or does she just mean that as a friend?

"Thanks, but I'll probably watch it with Tony while Sam and my mom are watching _Little Women_."

"Oh, OK. See you around."  
"Yeah, see ya."

She heads over to the Romance section, which was the next I was going to try, but now I'm definitely not going over there. Besides, I don't think a romance is a good idea. Maybe after Sam and I have been dating awhile. This is weird enough right now.

I pay for the rental of the two movies and then head out to my car. I just got the job yesterday, and I won't be paid for another two weeks, but I can afford this, even if it's twice as many movies as I set out to get.

And, yes, as Grandma said, I'm not wasting any time now about dating Sam. The thing is, I'm going to be working weekends (Friday through Sunday), so Sam and I figured we may as well just have the first date tonight, Thursday, rather than wait till next week. I won't be out that late. We're just doing dinner and a movie, that's all.

In a different way than last summer, we're experimenting. Seeing if this can even be done, since most women with babies don't date. Even as low-key and no-pressure as we're trying to make it, we're nervous about that part. Forget all the other stuff we have to deal with.

Down the road, yeah, we might ask Grandma or someone to babysit, but I knew that if we asked Tony and Mom that they, he in particular, wouldn't have felt comfortable. It's one thing to give us permission, and another to make it easier.

I drive home and hesitate about whether to actually give the other videotape to Mom and Tony. I feel weird even talking to them before I go over.

When Tony asked me today what I wanted for dinner, I said, "Um, I'm going over to Sam's."

He said, "Oh, I didn't know that was tonight."

And I left the house while he, Mom, and Grandma were at the dinner table.

I peek into the kitchen. Good, it's just Grandma. I go in quietly.

"Hey, Kid, so tonight's the big night, huh?"

"Grandma. It's just a quiet little date. Don't make a bigger deal out of it than it is."

"If it's a quiet little date, why did you rent two movies?"

"Long story. Here, give this one to Mom. It's based on a classic chick novel, so she should like it."

"What a thoughtful son!"

I roll my eyes. "Thanks. Well, I'll see you later."

"Have fun, Dear."

"Thanks." I leave before she can say anything else, or before Mom and Tony can come in.

If this were a regular date, I might change or put on some aftershave, but Sam and I promised we'd keep it casual. So I'm startled when I see she's got on a pink & white polka dot dress and her hair up.

"Oh, um, hi."

"What, no flowers?"

"I thought we were kidding."

"Oh."  
"You look nice, really nice." She looks beautiful and cute at the same time. Not every girl can do that.

"Thank you. Well, come on in."

"Thanks." I feel like we've already gotten off on the wrong foot and I almost want to back out of it, except that I'd never hear the end of it from Grandma.

"Dinner will be ready in a moment. Do you want to eat at the table or on the couch while we watch the movie?"

"On the couch." I feel like that would be more relaxed.

"OK, cue up the tape and I'll bring the food over."

"OK."

"By the way, what did you get us?"

" _Addams Family Values_."

"Oh."

"I thought you liked the Addams Family." I remember now, our family went to see the first movie around Christmas of '91. Tony and Mom were engaged by then but Sam was not yet dating Hank, or at least not seriously.

"I do. I saw that one with Hank."

"Oh." I wonder if I should go get _Little Women_. Or maybe I should go back to the video store.

"It's OK. I enjoyed it. And watching movies on the couch is just an excuse to cuddle, right?"

"Right." I sit down and turn on her TV and VCR. The last renter was not kind and didn't rewind, so I have to do that first.

Meanwhile she brings over TV trays with Swiss cheese, olives, pimento loaf slices, and sesame seed bread. More dots.

I grin. "You're so creative!"

She shrugs. "Anything to get out of cooking." Then she goes back and gets our drinks, pink lemonade with strawberry slices. She sits next to me and we clink our drinks.

"What are we toasting to?"

"To a non-disastrous first date."

"Works for me."

We construct our sandwiches as the movie starts playing and we eat between the laughs as best we can. Maybe I should've gotten a drama. Oh well.

After we eat, we set aside the trays and glasses. Then, after hesitating a moment, I do the old stretch technique. It's weird to think that I actually showed her father this once, when I was 12 or 13 and thought myself a little stud. (Like Tony didn't know more about women than I'll ever know.) In fact, I think I showed Tony this before his "first date" (well, first deliberate real date) with my mother, which makes it even stranger. Sam smiles in amusement but she still snuggles up against me after I casually drop my arm on her shoulder.

It feels nice to hold her again, just hold her. Without having to comfort her. Not that I regret being there for her last summer, but it is nice to not have crises breaking out on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis. I wonder if we can just be two people who like each other, spending time together.

"This is nice," she murmurs.

"Yeah."

She turns her head and we kiss, just a soft little kiss.

"That's nice, too."

"Yeah."

Then we watch the movie some more. And then we kiss some more. My arm cramps up from holding her at this angle, so we switch to holding hands. And we kiss some more.

And then the baby cries. She sighs. "I'll be right back."

"Uh, do you want some help?"

"No, it's OK. You keep watching the movie. This probably won't take long."

"OK."

After she leaves, I think of how no other guy my age, well, at least not in my social circle, has to deal with this. And it's my own fault for dating a woman with a baby.

Then I realize how selfish that sounds. It's not like I didn't know about Val going into this. What about poor Sam? She has to deal with this all the time. And she made a genuine effort to make this feel like a date. OK, she provided sandwich fixings, but probably even that was hard with how tired she is all the time. Yeah, OK, I got the movie, but I didn't even dress up, and she did.

I pause the movie and head upstairs. There must be some way I can help. Unless Sam is nursing. And even then I could, I don't know, rub her feet or something.

I hear Sam irritably exclaim, "Oh, great, thank you!", as I'm coming up the stairs.

"Sam, are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm wonderful. Your niece just got spit-up all over my dress."

I smile a little. She sounds like one parent telling another, "Do you know what you daughter did today?" I'm definitely not Val's dad, but I try to think what would help.

I go in the bathroom and get a washcloth. Then I go in Sam's room. Yeah, Val has definitely added polka dots to Sam's dress.

"What's this for?"

"To help you clean up."

She smiles a little. "Thanks." Then she sighs. "Can you hold her while I change?"

"Uh."

"Don't worry, she has nothing left to spit up."

"OK." I take the baby and she takes the washcloth.

Since we're not co-parents, she doesn't change in front of me but instead heads for the bathroom.

I sit in the rocking chair and rock gently, just in case Val's stomach is still upset. (Sam may think there's nothing left to spit up, but you never know.) "You are very good birth control. Do you know that? I mean, you're adorable, but you are a lot of work, Little Girl."

Val just looks up at me with Tony's brown eyes. That is especially weird.

"But I like your mommy. I would rather be here tonight than out with any other woman I know."

"Oh, really?" Sam is smiling from her doorway, wearing a robe.

"Well, yeah."  
"Good, because I can't think of any other man I'd let see me like this."

"You're beautiful," I say without thinking.  
"I don't mean the robe, Snake-boy. But thank you. I mean like this, with the baby and the mess and everything."

"The baby is part of your life."

"And so is the mess and everything."

"Yeah. But it's not like I didn't know about the baby, or the mess, or the everything."

"True. You've known about them as long as I have."  
"Yeah."

"Jonathan, would you mind if we just finish up the movie and call it a night? I mean, maybe this is enough for a first date."

"OK. Um, do you want to go out again sometime?"

"Sure, if you do. I mean, I can't promise you all the romance and excitement again."

I laugh. "That's all right." I carefully set Val down in her cradle and then I kiss Sam. "Is that OK in front of the baby?"

"Yeah, she's seen her grandparents smooch, so she's used to it."

"Right. Um, I'll meet you downstairs."

"See ya in a bit."

I watch more of the movie while I wait, and when she returns she's in jeans and a T-shirt. I guess the robe was too intimate for movie-watching on the first date. We just hold hands as we finish up the movie, but I do kiss her goodnight.

"Hey, thanks for being so understanding."

I shrug. "No big deal."

She smiles. "OK. Have fun at work tomorrow."

"Thanks. Well, good—"

"Oh, wait, Jonathan, could you do me a favor?"


	17. Magna Carta

"Uh, the Magna Carta?"

"Exactly. And the reason why this was so important is..."

I'm doing my best to focus on the class, to not think about tonight. And I am grateful to be out of the house. This isn't just about the money. It's good to talk to people outside the family for several hours every weekday.

Still, it's a relief when this class, my last of the day, ends. As I pick up my briefcase and head out to my Jeep, I let myself think for the first time since I arrived on campus this morning, _The second date is tonight._

I was nervous about their first date, in a completely different way than I'd been nervous about their very first dates (in '85 and '89 respectively), or any first date I've ever had. I was afraid it would go well and they'd want to continue, maybe get serious. I was afraid it would be disastrous, and then I'd have to cheer them both up. How the hell do you give pep talks to your daughter and your stepson about their failed relationship?

Angela wasn't completely at ease of course, but she at least could be distracted by the movie Jonathan got for us. I don't know why he thought I'd want to see _Little Women_. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like the '30s one, but it's got Katharine Hepburn. You can't go wrong with Kate. This one was OK, but it had all these distracting modern touches.

Angela told me that she used to wish she had sisters, every time she read the book growing up.

I sourly said, "Why? So one could steal your best friend and another could die on you?"

She shook her head.

I couldn't stop wondering what was going on at Sam's apartment, "taking it slow" or not. Jonathan is a 19-year-old guy! And Sam can be pretty impulsive. Even if they didn't take things too far that night, they might on the second date, or the third.

"So what did you think?" Angela asked at the end.

"I felt sorry for Mr. March. Not the one you dated. I mean the guy in the movie."

She smiled a little. "Why?"

"Well, the guy goes off to the war and then by the time he comes home, his 'little women' all have lives of their own, and he hardly ever says anything."

She looked amused. "He has more to do in the book."

"I hope so. But he was lucky in one respect."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, at least that Laurie guy was just 'like a brother' to the girls, not an actual brother type guy living in the same house."

"No, just next door."

"Angela."  
"Sorry."

"Aren't you wondering what they're getting up to next door?"

She smiled. "Tony, speaking as someone who's had a baby to take care of, I highly doubt much of anything is happening."

"Yeah? What if Val's napping?"

"Oh, so you're saying that if we'd been dating when we were looking after Baby Clint, you'd have wanted to go to bed with me?"

I gave her a look mixed with annoyance and lust.

"I mean that you wouldn't have had the energy to want to go to bed with me."

"Angela, when you said you'd love to have a baby but didn't know how, I really wanted to show you how."

"Oh." She blushed and smiled. Of course, back then she'd meant how could she as a busy, single career woman have a baby. "You would've liked to have been the sperm donor?"

"Yeah, but the old-fashioned way."

"You are very good at the old-fashioned way."

We were looking in each other's eyes the way we used to sometimes, like we were seconds away from ripping each other's clothes off, although we never did. That made the passion all the stronger, although there's a lot to be said for the passion we feel sometimes because we have repeatedly ripped each other's clothes off.

But before we could connect more than eyes, Jonathan came in with a plastic bag and another videotape.

"Uh, how was your date, Sweetheart?" Angela was doing her best to act normally in these abnormal circumstances.

"It was nice."

"Uh, what's in the bag?" I hesitantly asked.

"Sam's dress."

I stared at him. If he ripped it off her, I was definitely not sewing it back together! In fact, I might've ripped him apart.

"Her dress?" Angela said carefully.

"Yeah, Val spit—spat?—up on it. I promised Sam I'd wash it for her."

Angela tried to hide her amusement. "Oh, well, that's very nice of you, Sweetie."

He shrugged. "It's what Tony would do, right?"

"Uh, I never dated a woman with a baby."

"Well, yeah, but if, I don't know, in some parallel universe, Mom got divorced years earlier and you guys met when you were first a widower and I spat up on her, you'd have washed her dress, right?"

"Yeah, I guess." But it's hard to imagine all that.

"Is there anything I need to know about washing polka dots?"

"Uh, what color?" I asked.

"The dress is pink and white."

"White on pink or pink on white?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah, if you use the wrong bleach on pink dots, it'll take the color out."

"What kind of bleach do we have?"

I sighed. "Come on, I'll give you some laundry lessons." I took him to the basement and, to her credit, Angela didn't laugh till we were downstairs, although we could still hear her.

Jonathan half-smiled. "I guess this isn't the usual conversation you have with guys who take Sam out."

"No, not usually."

We also ended up washing Jonathan's outfit for his first day at Radio Shack. When he applied, it hadn't occurred to me, and maybe not to him either, that he'd be working Fridays through Sundays, at least to start out. That means he's still at home the same time as Sam, when Angela and I are at work, three days a week. Yes, I know she's busy with her baby, and she does listen to and evaluate the CDs she brings home for work, but still. I'm not as happy with this overlap as I would be if he were working during the week and had weekends off.

And now it's another Thursday night date. This isn't how I'd want to spend my evenings if I were 19 and single. Yeah, I spent some nights like that when I was 20 and married, but Sam was my kid, too. I don't know what it would've been like if Angela and I had gotten together in, say, '77 or '78. Well, one thing, Westermarck would've done his stuff.

I get home before the women do. I guess I'm only cooking for three tonight, like I was the nights before Jonathan came home from college when Sam didn't come over. I asked him last week what Sam made for him and he said sandwiches! I know, she's got a baby to take care of, but she didn't inherit my culinary interest anyway. The tomboy stuff, that's from me.

Jonathan isn't downstairs, but his car is in the driveway. Either he's not renting a movie this time, or he's already gone, or he's going later.

This is driving me crazy! I don't want to know the petty details of their dates. And it's not like they come and tell me everything, but I'm around and I notice things, and then I can't help asking questions.

This would be a hell of a lot easier if one of them lived further away. Jonathan could drive over to see Sam, or I guess he could come over and see her, but I wouldn't feel like I'm seeing the backstage of this, if that makes sense.

I start dinner and it's close to done when Angela comes in. After I kiss her hello, I ask, "Where's Mona?"

"She said she had to stop by Sam's."

"Oh." That can't be good, can it? Of course, if Sam were following Mona's advice, she probably wouldn't be taking things slow with Jonathan.

But I don't say anything about that and instead Angela and I fill each other in on our day. And then Mona comes in, with Val!

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Well, this is a baby and I'm the babysitter."

I almost say something about her "babysitting the kids" on Angela's birthday but I bite my tongue.

"Oh, Mother, that's very sweet of you." I look at Angela, who seems to be feeling guilt for not offering to do the babysitting herself, and perhaps concern that this means Sam and Jonathan will have some privacy.

"So you're babysitting tonight?"

"Yes, Tony," Mona says, like I'm an idiot.

"How late?"

"Not that late. After all, Jonathan has to work tomorrow."

"Uh huh." How long would it take him to seduce Sam after all? A couple hours? Especially since this'll be their first chance to spend much time alone together since her divorce.

"Angela, could you hold her while I go upstairs and change into something I won't mind getting spit-up on?"

"Of course," Angela says, reaching out for Val, rather than pointing out that she's still in her work outfit, just like Mona. She takes the baby and sits on the couch. She coos at Val, who smiles a little.

I want to hash things out with Mona, but then my grandfatherly instincts kick in and before I know it I'm on the couch making silly faces at Val. Angela and I don't babysit nearly as much as we once expected to. Usually, Sam's home and when she's not, Val is over with Hank and his family.

And, yeah, even though we'll have a baby of our own by the end of the year, that doesn't mean that we don't care about Val anymore. If anything, I actually see her as more special for being my one and only grandchild. (Let's hope for a very long time.)

I don't notice Mona leaving the room or Jonathan coming in, till he says, "You guys! That's so nice of you to babysit!" He comes over and hugs us, careful not to upset the baby. I notice he's put on aftershave and a tie.

I'm about to say that we're not babysitting, but Angela says, "Well, we don't see the baby nearly often enough. And it's good practice, right, Tony?"

"Uh, right."

"Well, I still appreciate it. And don't worry, I'll be back by 10." He leaves before we can say anything else.

"Angela."  
"What?"

"Now he's going to think we're more OK with them dating and being alone than we are."

"Oh, Tony, what does it matter anyway?"  
"What does it matter?!"

"I mean, they're going to take things slow, and if they did want to fool around, they just would, without having actual dates."

"Yeah, I guess."

"And, yes, I'm not completely comfortable with this situation, but I wouldn't mind actually babysitting Val."

"Well, neither would I. If Sam were going out with someone else."

"Yes, one of those hundreds of men lining up to take out new divorcées who are also new mothers."

"I didn't exactly see you going dateless when you weren't even divorced yet."

"Well, Jonathan wasn't a baby. And I did have a live-in housekeeper. And a mother who was willing to watch the kids sometimes."

I'm about to say something else when Mona comes downstairs, dressed even more inappropriately for babysitting.

"Mother!"

"I'm sorry, Dear, I just remembered I have a date. Would you mind watching the baby?"

Angela sighs. "Of course not, Mother."

"Thank you. See you later!" And she leaves.

I look at Angela who shrugs. Then she says, "Tony, could you watch the baby while I go upstairs and change?"

"You got a Thursday night date, too?"

"Well, I might sneak a cute guy into the house for some necking after the baby's asleep."

I take Val into my arms. "I'll see if I can bore the baby to sleep while you're gone."

"Thank you, Sweetie." She kisses my cheek and goes upstairs.

I sigh and then proceed to explain the Magna Carta in baby-talk.


	18. Friendly Ghost

Mona tricked us, all four of us. I know, shocking, right? Who could ever imagine sweet, grandmotherly Mona Robinson manipulating people? Yeah. Apparently she once tried voodoo on Dad and Angela, using two of my old dolls. I never got the full details, but somehow Dad's gum got into Angela's mouth, like Heather Harper's gum got into Jonathan's, although Jonathan very clearly remembers kissing Heather, while Dad and Angela swear they didn't kiss that day.

Anyway, she told me that on the commute home last Thursday, Angela said she wanted to babysit Val if I'd be OK with it. And then Mona offered to be the middle-woman, since things are understandably strained with me and Angela. I thought that was very sweet of Angela, and I felt like it was a sign that she was accepting my relationship with Jonathan more. And then when he came over, he said that both Dad and Angela were looking after Val, which was even more moving, and definitely more surprising.

Except, it didn't happen like that. Mona told Angela and Dad she was going to babysit, but then she suddenly "remembered" she had a date that night. And so they got stuck with it, except that when Jonathan and I came over at 10, Dad and Angela didn't look the slightest bit resentful. In fact, he'd made a crown out of a paper bag and was reciting from Shakespeare's _King John,_ while Angela was playing "Greensleeves" on her cello. And Miss Val was a riveted little audience.

Jonathan turned to me and said, "You want me to go get my accordion?"

"You do and we're through."

Dad and Angela noticed us then. They looked embarrassed, although not as much as they should've.

"You realize, don't you, that I'm the one who'll have to pay for Val's therapy?"

"Gee whiz, we try to expose our granddaughter to a little culture."

"Can't you be like normal babysitters and put the kid to sleep so you can neck?"

They both blushed.

No, Jonathan and I hadn't necked that night. But we kissed and snuggled and talked, without interruption, which was heavenly. We hadn't planned anything besides dinner.

(I made salads: fruit, garden, and antipasto. It was something that I could do while listening to CDs on low volume with the headphones, keeping an ear out for Val. Plus, the weather's warmer now, so I figured something light would be good to eat.)

We'd figured we'd just play it by ear. Maybe catch something on cable, something that could be interrupted by Val if need be. And then it turned out that Val would be next door and not able to interrupt.

But we're taking it slow. And we figured if Dad and Angela were willing to watch Val once, they'd do it again. If we wanted to neck, there would be other opportunities.

We didn't find out immediately that Mona had hoodwinked us all. But when I said something to Angela on the Tuesday commute home, while Mona was in the restroom, about maybe babysitting again, it all came out.

And then when that was cleared up, she said, "It was fun sitting Val. Tony and I both enjoyed it. However, he's not completely comfortable with you and Jonathan being on your own."

"Angela, if Jonathan and I wanted to do something, Val would not be much of a chaperone."

"I know, but that's how he feels."

"How do you feel about it?"

She sighed. "This is a very strange situation, Samantha."

Well, she got that right. It's strange for all of us, except maybe Mona.

Anyway, I called up Jonathan the next day, yesterday, and told him all this. And we agreed that, provided someone would babysit, we would have our third date in public.

"You sure about this, Sam?"

"If it'll set our parents' minds at ease, I think we should."

"Yeah, but if it's in public, well, it's in public. Other people will know."

"What will they know? That a stepbrother and stepsister went to a restaurant or the movies together? Oo, scandalous!"

"And what if I want to kiss you or hold your hand?"

"Well, I guess we could go into New York. Less chance of running into somebody we know."

"Yeah, and you did promise to do the Hustle on the Staten Island Ferry."

"Let's save that for our anniversary."

He laughed and then sighed. "Do you really think we'll make it to one year?"

"Well, yeah. If we count last summer."

I know, we're such optimists. Well, it's not like we don't have a lot of obstacles.

Anyway, we got our parents to agree to deliberately watch Val while we go out to dinner and a movie.

"A drive-in movie?" Dad said warily.

"Dad, there are no more drive-in movies."

Mona laughed and Jonathan shook his head. I made a mental note to ask him about that later.

"This will be a walk-in theater."

"What time will you be home?" Angela asked.

"Probably 10," Jonathan said. "Eleven at the latest."

Dad and Angela looked at each other.

"Oh, come on, I had a later curfew than that when I was in high school!"

"Just that one time. When Angela and I were—" Dad coughed. "Eleven is fine."

Hm, I'd have to find out about that, too.

Anyway, they're minding Val tonight and Jonathan and I are going to see _Casper_. It started out as a joke, that we should see a kids' movie and another Christina Ricci movie, but it's actually getting decent reviews. The special effects should at least be good, that new CGI computer animation stuff.

We both had late lunches, so we agree to see the movie first, and try not to fill up on refreshments.

"Do you want me to treat you?" Jonathan asks in the car. "Or do you want to go Dutch?"

"Well, if I let you pay for everything, I hope you won't think I'm going home with you."

"Actually, I was hoping you'd ask me up to your place."

"I would, but I have a roommate."

"Well, I have three."

"I see. Well, don't go thinking that the Third Date Rule applies."

"Aww, no Jell-O wrestling?"

"Sorry, no."

"That's all right. I respect that in a woman."

Ten minutes ago, I dropped off my roommate with two of his and then waited for him to come downstairs. "Is he almost ready?"

"Oh, you know men," Angela joked. Of course, she takes longer to get ready than anyone I know.

I'm wearing a silk blouse with jeans. Jonathan and I are still trying to get a balance over how much we dress up for our dates. Last time, I deliberately dressed down, and then he showed up in a tie. At least he didn't wear a jacket. Like this time.

"Aren't you hot?" I ask now.

"Why, thank you, Sam."

I roll my eyes. "I mean in that jacket."

He shrugs. "The theater will be air-conditioned, right?"

"I hope so." It's not boiling hot but it definitely feels like almost summer.

We're the oldest people in the theater without kids, I mean without kids with them. Obviously, it'll be a long time till I take Val to the movies. (Not that there aren't crying babies anyway. Not everyone is willing to wait for video.)

We sit in the back and after awhile he takes my hand. I feel self-conscious at first, though no one's looking, and even if they were, we're just a guy and a girl, right? Still, I can't help seeing if I recognize the backs of any heads.

The movie is cute, sweet, funny, but a little sad. There's even a very innocent romance, puppy love I guess, between Kat (the Ricci character) and Casper. Yes, even though he's a ghost.

We squeeze each other's hands when Casper asks Kat as she's falling asleep, "Can I keep you?" Then we look at each other like we know we're corny dorks. We smile.

As we're heading out to that plex of the multiplex, we run into the Harper family! No, Heather isn't with them, the only way that this could be worse. It's Mark, Pam, and Adam, the little boy they adopted to save their marriage after he got Mary Fuller pregnant and he and Pam separated. They sold their house to Angela and then her superintendent rented it to some airhead actress with a nice body and no money. (Yeah, three guesses who the super was.) Anyway, the Harpers reconciled and bought the house back but spent a year in Japan, before moving back to the neighborhood with Adam, who was Billy's best friend and rival for awhile.

You'd think with all that soapiness in their lives, they wouldn't be giving me and Jonathan _Hm, what do we have here?_ looks. I'm glad we're no longer holding hands.

"Well, Jonathan and Sam!" Mark says. "Imagine running into you at the movies."

"Yeah, small world," Jonathan says. I try not to laugh.

"Were you just seeing _Casper?"_ Pam asks. Like, why else would be leaving this part of the theater?

"Uh huh," I say. "It was good."

"Aren't you a little old for that movie?" she says.

"It's good for all ages."

Jonathan nods. "Fun for the whole family."

"Oh, are Tony, Mona, and Angela here, too?"

"Uh, no, they're watching Val." I don't want to explain, not that it's any of their business.

"Poor Sam is cooped up with the baby all the time."

"Oh, what a sweet brother you are to treat her to the movies!"

Mark puts on a concerned look. "Samantha, it must be tough to raise a child on your own."

I want to slap him, both of them. Luckily, Adam starts whining about wanting to get a seat near the screen. So we all say goodnight and they go into the plex, while Jonathan and I head out to his car.

We don't say anything until he starts the car. He says, "Sam, I'm sorry that happened."

I shake my head. "It could've been worse. I just hate being judged by hypocrites."

"I know."

"At least Heather wasn't with them."

He chuckles. "I was thinking that, too."

"Well, anyway, do you still want to get dinner?"

"Yeah, I have to be a good brother, don't I?"

I shudder, laugh, and sigh, in that order.

We go to a nice but not fancy restaurant. That is, it's not fast food and there is actually a waitress. OK, it's Denny's, but I didn't really want Chez Rene or something.

We order, eat, and talk about the movie and about work. He likes Radio Shack so far but he's still being trained.

He asks me, "Do you ever wish you were doing the side of management where you're going to concerts?"

"Of course. But I figure when Val is older I can take her along, since it's kids' music."

"Yeah. It's not like Al and the Hot Rollers."

I laugh. "Yeah, like at that deli. With the comedy stylings of Jonathan Bower."

He blushes. "Sometimes I wish you hadn't seen me in my awkward years."

"I didn't know you were done with your awkward years."

He whispers, "You're such a bitch, Sam."

"Aah, you love me anyway." Now I blush. "Uh, I mean, um, good salads, huh?"

"Nice save."  
"Thanks."

"For your information, if I do fall in love with you, I'll tell you. We've never exactly held back about our feelings, right?"

"Right." Well, he didn't tell me at the time about his years of crushing on me, but other than that, yeah, we've always been pretty honest with each other, sometimes brutally honest. "And I'll do the same for you."

"Good. So far, I don't know. It's nice, you know?"

I nod. "I know."

"We're not rushing emotionally either, right?"

"Right."

Then we both seem to realize that this isn't really a restaurant conversation. Luckily, we don't see anyone we know.

After dinner, he drives us home. We kiss goodnight in the car. Then we go in the main house so I can pick up my daughter from her babysitters.

Val is sleeping, but if Dad and Angela were necking, we don't catch them at it. They used to be very shy about kissing each other in front of other people, like with the mistletoe when she was dating Geoffrey. I could understand that, but even when they first got together, they snuck around the house and apparently outside the house, just to keep from telling us and Mona that they were involved! If I hadn't realized that their car-in-the-lake story sounded suspiciously like those of a couple of friends of mine who were making out when her foot slipped and hit the brake, they probably still wouldn't have admitted it. Then they went into a puppy-love stage, where they were real cute together, smooching and hugging. Well, I thought it was cute. Mona and Jonathan thought it was too much. Anyway, now they're like a normal married couple, mildly affectionate in front of other people.

Hank and I were all over each other at first. I guess we were pretty obnoxious about it, which is why Dad ripped the door off my bedroom, before sending us off to live at Mona's apartment. After six months, the honeymoon phase ended and Hank and I were pretty mild, especially in front of other people. With Jonathan, I don't know if we'll ever get to the point of being comfortable with public affection. Maybe when everyone knows about it and it's no longer a big deal. If it lasts long enough for that to happen.

I say goodnight to everyone (well, Mona isn't home yet, but it's too early for one of her dates to end), and take Val home. "Did you have a nice time with Grandma and Grandpa?" I ask as we head upstairs.

She yawns.

"Is that a contented yawn or a bored yawn?"

She murmurs incoherently.

"Well, I had a nice quiet evening. But, yes, Mommy missed you!" I give her a big kiss. She bats my face away like _Don't bother me right now, Mom!_ I laugh. "OK, let's get you to bed."

Other than running into the Harpers, I'm happy with how things went tonight. I could see doing something like this for our fourth date. But I hope Dad and Angela can get to the point where they'll be comfortable with me and Jonathan having private dates.


	19. Neighborly

Tony and I are spending a lovely, lazy Saturday together. Jonathan's at Radio Shack and Mother took Sam and the baby to the mall for Val's belated "one-third of a year birthday." Yes, we all joked about the "mallrat baby," including Mother of course claiming she was taking my credit cards. In a way, I'd like to have gone, but it's very nice for me and Tony to have the house to ourselves. And there will be plenty of "four generations of women" shopping opportunities in the future.

Yes, Tony and I made love earlier. Oddly enough, although we didn't neck as Sam teased us, babysitting seems to have restored some of the fun, flirty side of my relationship with Tony. We're still not 100% comfortable with Sam and Jonathan's relationship of course, but the kids have been surprisingly sensitive to our feelings. They're mature and responsible. If Jonathan were defiantly yelling, "I don't care what you say, I love her and I want to be with her!" or if Sam were pouting, "We're adults, why can't you treat us like it?", I don't know if I could stand it.

Tony and I are now snuggling on the couch, watching _Gentlemen Prefer Blondes._ We were in the mood for a light, funny musical, but not one of our usuals. Tony of course flirts about preferring one blonde in particular, and I flirt back that I prefer one particular gentleman.

And then the doorbell rings. He sighs and pauses the movie. "I knew it was too good to last."

"Get rid of them as soon as possible."

He pretends to be shocked. "Angela! That's not very neighborly of you!" I laugh and he smiles. But his smile fades when he opens the door to Joanne Parker. Then he puts a fake smile on. "Joanne, what a pleasant surprise."

"Good afternoon, Tony, but I'm afraid this isn't a social call."

I bite my tongue, but I half wish Mother was here. She's very good a putting people in their place, especially phony-sweet women whom she meets on their own level.

"Angela, good, you're both here. Are your children at home?"

"No," I say flatly, finding it very difficult to be polite.

"It's just as well. What I have to say is for your ears only, yours and Tony's."

"Have a seat," he says. At least one of us is remembering our etiquette.

"Thank you, Tony." She sits and he returns to the couch.

"Well, Joanne, what is this about?" I ask. Obviously, there's no point in small talk.

"Well, Angela, I know you and Tony have always done things differently than everyone else in the neighborhood."

"Is this about the Memorial Day barbecue?" Tony asks nervously.

She laughs fakely. "Oh, that's perfectly all right that you forgot to invite my family. We had plans that day anyway."

"I'm so glad," I say, doing my best to channel Mother and put some ambiguity into my delivery.

"This is far more serious than grilled steaks. It's about your children."

Tony and I both tense up. "What about them?" I ask carefully, trying not to give anything away with my voice.

"Well, I realize that they're not related by blood, but they were raised together and they became related by law once you two finally got married."

Tony and I don't risk looking at each other, although I'm sure he's wondering as I am how Joanne found out. Did she see them when they were on their movie date a couple days ago? And how did she know it was a date? Were they publicly affectionate?

"Uh, yeah?" he says.

"Do I have to spell it out?" I can see from the glee in her eyes that she would be only too happy to.

"Joanne, what business is it of yours if Jonathan and Sam are spending time together?" I'm trying very hard not to lose my temper.

She laughs. "Spending time? Angela, are you really that naïve?"

"We know the kids are dating," Tony says gruffly. "And like Angela said, what do you care?"

"What do I care? Well, Tony, maybe in the Italian culture it's all right for a young woman to carry on as your daughter has been the last few years—"

Tony bristles and I can see that he's thinking that he wants to make an exception to his policy of not hitting women. "Carry on?" he spits out, although I'm sure it's the "Italian culture" part that gets to him most.

"Not that it matters, but Sam was a virgin when she got married. Her husband cheated on her and Jonathan is the first boy, uh, man she's dated since then. And they're taking it slow."

"Angela! None of that is any of her damn business!"

"Slow? Really? And how do you define slow?"

"What exactly are you implying, Joanne?" I demand.

"Well, would you call it slow for a young couple to be driving around with several dozen, well, prophylactics in their car?"

Tony and I stare at her. We were definitely not expecting that!

Tony finds his voice first. "Several dozen condoms?" he whispers hoarsely.

"Well, that's what my daughter said."

I cross my arms. "And just how did your daughter happen to see what was in their car?"

"Well, when they came up to the drive-through window—"

"The drive-through window?" Without meaning to, I put Mother's spin on that.

Joanne looks a little flustered. "Well, Shannon got a summer job at McDonald's before she went off to college—"

"Hold on. She's a year behind Jonathan, right?" Tony says. I don't know how he remembers these things. I can remember names and information about clients, but I'm not very good at remembering details about the neighbors.

"Well, yes, since Angela let Jonathan skip sixth grade. Clearly, that false maturity was his downfall as we can see now—"

Tony waves his hands dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. My point is, she graduated from high school last year, right?"

"Yes, and now she's doing quite well at NYU."

"You must be so proud," I say dryly and wonder if I should mock her about McDonald's, as Mother would. And then I understand what Tony is getting at. I gasp.

"You're sayin' this happened last summer?" Tony says hoarsely.

"Yes, so if you regard that as slow—"

It takes all my self-control to say, "Joanne, as we've already told you several times, this is none of your business."

"None of my business when two step-siblings are flaunting their illicit relationship? How do you think that makes the neighborhood look?"

"I'm sorry we can't all be like you Joanne. Bigoted, interfering bitches." I smile sweetly.

She stares at me. "What did you just say?"

"Get out, Joanne."

"Well, really, I try to help and this is all the thanks I—"

"You heard her," Tony says, getting up and opening the front door. "Or do you want me to show you how we treat bigoted, interfering bitches in the Italian culture?"

She looks both frightened and indignant, but she leaves without saying anything further. Tony slams the door behind her.

Then we look at each other and our anger fades back into shock.

"Tony, do you think she could've made that up?"

"About the condoms? She may be malicious, but she's not that creative. Besides, she wouldn't have admitted her daughter had a fast-food job if she didn't have to."

"Last summer," I whisper.

He sits down again but he takes the chair that Joanne's cold, bony butt just occupied. "Yeah, when they just had 'feelings' they didn't act on, and they told us only that they'd become 'best friends.' "

"Well, maybe they didn't act on their feelings but they thought about it."

"Angela, when I was an 18-year-old guy, I didn't just think about sex. But I also didn't flaunt any condoms in my possession!"

"Weren't you dating Marie when you were 18? And didn't you wait till your wedding night with her?"  
He blushes a little. "Well, you know how I feel about sex before marriage if it's a serious relationship. It's better to wait."

"So these were the condoms you had in your possession when you were 16 or 17 and dating the Benedetti twins and Tanya?"

"Angela, eye on the ball. We're not discussing my teenage sex life, with girls I never pretended to be just friends with. We're discussing your son's teenage sex life with my post-adolescent daughter. A sex life that they've spent almost a year lying about!"

"Tony, we still don't know for a fact that they were having sex last year. Or even now."

He shakes his head. "Well, we know they're practicing or at least planning to practice safe sex. I guess it could be worse."

"I think we need to clear this up as soon as possible."

"Yeah, and what do you plan to say to them? 'Did you two lie to us about not screwing each other?' "

"We can probably put it more delicately than that."

"You know the worst part, Angela?"

"What, Tony?"

"Whether or not something has happened, Joanne is going to tell everyone that something has. And she's probably going to make it sound even worse than it is."

I sigh. "I know. Maybe we should've been nicer to her."

He snorts. "Yeah, we weren't exactly neighborly."

"Well, neither was she."

"Yeah."

We sit here in silence for awhile. We can't comfort each other, because we're not even sure what's going on. And then I hear Sam's car pull up and we look at each other. I'm sure he's thinking the same thing I am. Both kids, Sam in particular, would likely confide in Mother. So I think we need to have our own little chat with her.


	20. Le Ventilateur

Pardon my French, but la merde a frappé le ventilateur. When Tony and Angela called me into the living room, I thought they'd found out I wasn't joking about taking Angela's credit cards to the mall. And, yes, I bought an outfit for Sam and one for myself, as well as a couple adorable ones for Val. But we didn't really spend much. We were mostly enjoying our time together. Sam's movie date aside, she doesn't really get out and just have fun since the baby was born.

I remember what it was like when I was even younger than Sam and had to take care of my little angel full-time. Sometimes my sister, who was about 13, would come over and help me with the baby, but we hardly ever went anywhere. (There were no malls in the area at the time of course, so it was a big deal if we went to the soda shop.) And Robert was busy with work of course. As for my mother, I liked it best when she didn't come over, because she would only tell me what I was doing wrong.

Anyway, I came in a few minutes ago without my shopping bag, since Sam promised to hide it at her place until I can sneak it home. And I did my best not to look guilty. But then Tony said, "Did Sam go back to her place?"

"Yes, it's Val's naptime."

"Mother, have a seat."

I sat down in the nearest chair, planning to promise to pay her back when the bills arrive, but not planning to admit to anything ahead of time. And then Tony said, "We want to talk to you about the kids."

"Which kids?" I asked, which I thought was a fair question, because they could've meant Val and their expected baby. Maybe they wanted me to take on more babysitting responsibilities now.  
He rolled his eyes. "Samantha and Jonathan."

"Oh, what about them?"

"Mother, not that we want you to violate a confidence, but have they discussed with you what they've done physically?"

I was not prepared for that. "Well, they're taking it slow, aren't they?"

"That's not what she asked. Have they told you whether or not they've ever had sex?"

Oh God, it had hit the fan! I didn't know what Tony and Angela had heard or seen but they clearly knew something. Or, well, they unclearly knew something. I wish they'd asked if Sam and Jonathan are having sex this summer, because I know for a fact they're sticking to first base, so far anyway. (Sam told me that at lunch at the mall, and I see no reason why she would've lied about it.)

"Why do you ask?"

"Mother."

"According to Joanne Parker, they were carting around a carload of condoms last summer!"

"Oh. Well, maybe it was for a college fund-raiser. You know, safe sex awareness or something like that."

"That's not how it sounded."

"Mother, when you visited here for a week last summer, when Tony and I were still away, did you see or hear anything suspicious?"

Like Jonathan opening his bedroom door just a crack when I knocked, and looking, even more obviously than Tony the morning after his all-nighter, like he'd got lucky? Like Jonathan whispering with someone while I unpacked? Like the two of them coming downstairs and Sam point-blank telling me that she'd taken his virginity? Something like that?

"Mother?"

I could lie but if Joanne's found out (and don't ask when or how she could've seen the kids driving around with a slew of condoms), it's going to seem unlikely that I didn't know. I sigh and say, "It was just the one time." (OK, they told me it happened three times in twelve hours, but that's just one night and a morning, really.)

They stare at me. I think they were half hoping that Joanne's gossip was as distorted as what she said about the two of them years ago.

(Only Tony could "innocently" see Angela naked and then "innocently" sleep with her months later. Even the time she thought she'd had drunken sex with him, she hadn't. How a man with Tony's virility and his strong attraction to her could resist for years has always baffled me. I'd blame her cold-fishiness but I think it was actually his scruples more than hers.)

"One time? Last summer?" Angela whispers.

"When?" Tony demands.

"Um, right before I came back for a week." I wonder if it'll help to say that I put a stop to things, or a pause to them anyway.

Tony looks at Angela. "July, right? While we were at the castle?"

"Yes, it must've been." She looks at me. "Oh, Mother, how could you participate in their deception?"

"They promised to stop. And they have."

"That's not the point!" Tony snaps. "They did it, they did it right here in our house! And then covered it up, and you helped them!"

"Was it here, Mother?" Angela sounds more sad than angry.

I don't see what difference it makes, whether it was here or the No-Tell Motel or the Fairfield Inn or the back of Tony's Jeep. Well, I guess the Jeep would be worse. "Yes," I say quietly. "In Jonathan's room."

"They couldn't even go over to Sam's apartment?" Tony demands.

"I think there were too many memories of Hank then. This wasn't long after he left after all."

He shakes his head. "I can't believe my own daughter would be so slutty!"

"Tony!" Angela gasps in shock.

"Samantha is not a slut."

"Well, that means a lot coming from you, Mona."

"Tony, stop!" Angela cries.

"You think it was Jonathan's fault? You think he was some smooth-talking stud seducing the poor lonely woman whose husband left her?" He shakes his head. "Jonathan? Come on!"

"Tony," I say as calmly as I can, "they had feelings and they acted on them because they were alone and both vulnerable in different ways. There's no need to judge them for it. I talked to them about it and they agreed to wait until Sam's life was less crazy."

"Did they know she was pregnant?" he demands.

"Yes, she'd found out recently."

"So why all the condoms?"

"Well, Hank was unfaithful and she probably wanted to protect Jonathan, just in case."

"Was he a virgin?" Angela asks quietly.

"Jonathan? Of course."

"She took his virginity!"

"Well, yes."

"I thought Susan was his first. I wanted to talk to him about it but then they broke up and he told us about his feelings for Sam, so I never asked."

I decide not to mention that he had sex with Susan, too. It would probably make it even less plausible that he and Sam have mostly stayed on first base.

"So Jonathan has sex with Sam and then when he can't have her anymore, he starts banging Susan?"

"Tony!" Angela gasps.

"I guess you think he's slutty, too."

He shakes his head.

"He was trying to get over Sam. It didn't work. So they're back together, but this time they wanted to do it honestly and slowly."

"Yeah, this time. That doesn't change what happened last summer."

"Tony, people make mistakes. You should know that better than anyone."

He looks down and doesn't reply. I glance over at Angela, expecting to see her quietly crying. But then I notice that she's silently rocking with laughter.

"Dear, are you feeling all right?"

Tony looks up. "Angela?"

"I was just thinking," she giggles, "that at least Jonathan isn't the one who got Sam pregnant!"

Tony scowls. "Yeah, real comforting, Angela." Then he looks at me. "How do we know they weren't lying to you? How do we know this hasn't been going on for months, maybe years longer than you think? How do we know Jonathan isn't Val's father?"

"Tony!" Angela looks shocked again.

"OK, now you're being ridiculous. Sam is not the one who cheated. Hank is. She was crazy about Hank until the day he left her. Furthermore, if you ever saw Sam show the slightest interest in Jonathan romantically before last summer, I will eat every cushion on the sofa."

"Tony, she's right. He had a crush on her for years and I did suspect it, but she never returned his interest until after we went away. And if she did take Jonathan's virginity, I don't think that makes her, well."

"A slut?"

"Mother. I'm not happy that they lied to us, Tony, but I can see why they did."

"Yeah, but, Angela, how are we ever going to trust them again? And how can we believe that they can take it slow if they jumped into bed when they weren't even dating?"

"Sometimes people have sex without dating. And sometimes, although I don't know why, but you two might know, they date without having sex."

"Mother. Tony, I think we need to sit down and talk to both of them."

"I think we need to put a stop to this. No movie dates, no nothin'!" He's lapsed into Brooklynese, a sign of how upset he is.

"Perhaps. But let's at least find out what they have to say for themselves before we forbid them. And like it or not, they're both adults."

"Yeah, well, they said they wouldn't date if we don't want them to. Of course, that may've been a lie, too."

"Do you want to talk to them together or one on one?"

"I think we should discuss this as a family."

"Thank you, Mother, but you've said enough."

I feel bad for selling out the kids but I was actually trying to help. The thing is, there was probably nothing I could've said to save this situation.

"Well, if that's how you feel, I'm going upstairs."

"Mona, don't even think of calling Sam. Or Jonathan at work."

Damn, so much for warning the kids! Oh well, even if this catches them off guard, I guess it had to happen someday. I'm not happy that Joanne is the one who revealed whatever she revealed, but I guess the kids haven't been as discreet as I thought. I would like to know about the carful of condoms, but I'll have to ask Sam later.

I don't know what the kids will do if they can't date anymore, but they weren't that optimistic to begin with. I'm just worried that Tony and Angela may take more drastic action, like sending Jonathan back to Cambridge for the summer. Poor guy! And poor Sam, of course. And poor me, caught in the middle.


	21. Honest

When I get home from work, I consider going over to Sam's. Maybe one date a week isn't enough. It's not just the kissing and stuff, I like talking to her. But I should probably change first and maybe shower, too, since it's kind of hot out.

I'm startled when I go in the living room and see her, without Val. And Mom and Tony are sitting on the couch, her looking worried, him looking stern. Sam looks tense.

"What's going on?"

"Have a seat," Tony says gruffly, so I take the one by the kitchen.

Is this some sort of family conference? Where's Grandma? Did something happen to Grandma? And what about Val?

"What's wrong?"

Tony snorts like I've asked the world's stupidest question.

Mom says, "Jonathan, we've heard a rumor about you and Samantha."

I glance over at Sam. I wonder how long she's been here, how long they've all been waiting for me to come home. Did they grill her first, or wait to grill us together?

"What rumor?" I ask. Did the Harpers tell them about seeing us at the movies? Why would that upset them? They knew we were going, and even if the Harpers had seen us holding hands, which they didn't, Mom and Tony aren't that puritanical. And other than that, we haven't done anything since we've started dating! Well, yeah, hugging and kissing, but that was mostly in the privacy of Sam's apartment, so how would anyone know? And again, I don't think Tony and Mom would be that shocked. Hell, they did more than that in public in Jamaica, in front of us and a busload of tourists!

Mom looks too embarrassed to answer and Tony too angry. Then Sam asks, "Who's spreading gossip about us?" So she must not know much more than I do about this.

Mom quietly says, "Joanne Parker."

Oh. I wonder if Mrs. Harper told Mrs. Parker about seeing us at the movies. And then maybe Mrs. Parker said something about seeing me and Sam visit us each other so much last summer. I mean, she wouldn't have seen anything that out of the ordinary, but I know she doesn't need much to build gossip on.

"What did that nosy bitch say?" Sam demands.

Instead of scolding Sam for swearing (it's not like anyone in the family doesn't think Mrs. Parker is a nosy bitch), Tony hoarsely says, "I'll tell you what she said. She said you and Jonathan were driving around town with a carful of condoms!"

"She's crazy!" Sam says, but I don't say anything. I'm remembering something that Sam hardly thought about at the time.

"Or maybe her daughter is. She's the one who saw them in the car—and it better not have been my Jeep—when you guys came up to the drive-through window at McDonald's."

"Oh," Sam says quietly and looks at me.

"Shannon Parker. I told you I went to high school with her."

"So it's true!"

"Well, yeah, Tony, but it's not like it sounds. It wasn't a carful of condoms. It was just two dozen and I accidentally took them out of Sam's purse when we were paying."

Sam shakes her head like I'm making things worse.

"Oh, pardon me, only two dozen! And, Samantha, why exactly did you have twenty-four condoms in your purse?"

"Well, Dad, Angela's doctor gave them to me."

"Dr. Hollis?" Mom whispers in shock.

"Um, yeah. After I told her my safe sex concerns, because Hank was unfaithful. Well, I didn't know at the time that he didn't technically cheat on me."

"EXCUSE ME?" Tony shouts.

Sam sighs. "They just necked before he left me. Or so he said. But I didn't know that till later, when he came to ask me to take him back, because he found out I was pregnant."

Poor Mom looks like she's got a headache from trying to keep track of all this. I remember that it wasn't just our fling that we didn't tell them about last year.

"You wouldn't take him back when all he did was neck?"

"Not everyone can be as forgiving as Angela."

Tony now looks embarrassed as well as angry. "You know that I didn't break a vow to Angela, not a spoken one anyway. And I have regretted that night and the months after ever since. Anyway, that's not my point. You let me think that Hank cheated on you."

"Well, that's what he let me think at first. And he was, still is, in love with her, Dad, so what does it matter anyway?"

"Can we please get back to the subject of you and Jonathan?" Mom pleads.

"If you want," Sam mutters.

"So, Dr. Hollis knew that you were interested in Jonathan?"

"Um, well, yeah. Don't get mad at her though."

"I'm not," Mom says, as if she understands about doctor-patient confidentiality, although she still looks hurt that her doctor kept Sam's secret.

"So who else did you tell besides her and Mona?" We all look at Tony, me and Sam in surprise, Mom in annoyance. "Uh, I mean, um."

"So, Dad, you knew and you put me and Jonathan through this trial? Why not just come right out and say, 'I know about your fling last summer'?"

"FLING?!"

"Mother said it was one time," Mom whispers.

Now Sam looks embarrassed. "Well, I guess it depends how you define your terms," she says quietly.

"It wasn't exactly a one-night stand. We kissed and held hands for a few weeks, and then we made out once, and then, um, we spent the night together." I consider saying we had sex three times in twelve hours, but that might sound like I'm bragging. Besides, I don't think either of them wants that much information.

"Yeah, in your room, huh, Jonathan?"

"Well, yeah." I don't know why Grandma had to tell them that, or why that's any worse than if it had been elsewhere. I mean, it's not like it was in the kitchen or mom's office! It was my space, not theirs.

"Samantha," Mom says, and for the first time there's a coldness in her voice, "how do you define your terms? Is there a reason why you decided to have a fling with my then virginal 18-year-old son, rather than an actual relationship?"

"Or no involvement at all," Tony mutters.

"Well, um, you know, I was pregnant and going through a divorce. I was very confused. And you know, I usually rush into things emotionally. Like with Jesse and Matt and Hank. Even with Eric, I thought at first I might be in love."

"Who's Eric?" I try to recall him from the long list of Sam's boyfriends.

"You know," Sam tells me, "Walter's grandson."

"Who's Walter?"

"Walter Nordstrom," Mom says, "the man Mother almost married before she met your grandfather."

"Oh, Eric!" Now I remember him. Sam was in her junior year and I was a freshman. They didn't date long but I remember everyone thought Eric was just wonderful. And I remember walking in on him and Sam kissing on the couch and I resorted to sarcasm because I was jealous and that was how I always dealt with it. And he told me if I was lucky I'd meet a girl like Sam, so I said something sarcastic again and then left the room.

I look over at Sam and I can see that she's remembering that, too, maybe for the first time seeing it with hindsight, understanding what I was going through. We smile at each other.

"So you figured you'd just take Jonathan to bed with no emotional involvement?" Mom's accusation snaps our attention back to her.

"It wasn't like that. It wasn't that it was just physical. It was more that we didn't make any promises to each other. I was going through a lot and I couldn't make a commitment to him. I didn't want to make the same mistake I always did of getting too attached."

"So why now?" Tony demands. "Why have the fling and then almost a year later date and 'take it slow'?"

"We got attached," I say quietly. "But we're, um, we're not, um."

"We're not in love. But we do have feelings. We're special to each other. And we do feel bad about how we did things last year. It was the wrong decision. We thought we could start fresh, try to be honest this time. With ourselves, with you."

"Yeah, you were real honest with us," Tony spits out. "Pretending you've never touched each other before!"

"I'm sorry, Dad. I guess we were afraid that if we told you, you wouldn't believe us about our involvement now."

"You're damn right I wouldn't believe you. Goddamn it, Sam! How many times have you betrayed my trust and then said, 'I'm sorry, Dad, it won't happen again'? And guess what? It happens again!"

"Let me think, Dad. I guess three times. I snuck out of the house to see Todd after he gave me the hickey and then I confessed to you. I almost cheated on a test and then I confessed to you and my teacher."

"Yeah, because you got caught both times! Would you have even said anything about having sex with Jonathan, no, I'm sorry, a fling with Jonathan, if Joanne Parker weren't gossiping about you?"

Sam and I look at each other and I'm the one who answers, "Probably not."

Sam says, "What should we have done, Dad?"

"Never touched each other to begin with!"

"I mean after we had. When you stormed in here, jet-lagged, sleepless, and furious, would you have liked me to have said, 'Oh, by the way, Dad, one reason I didn't take Hank back is because I had a fling with Jonathan and I ended up liking him better in every way'?"

I can't help it, I grin at her. "You thought that back then?"

"You dork! Why the hell else would I be going through this? I could've gone to the movies with Julia if I just wanted companionship."

"You should've told us," Mom says quietly. "Maybe not the very first day we came back from Italy, but soon after that. You two were sneaky and dishonest. And that, even more than your physical involvement, is what hurts."

"Yeah, that's not how we raised you!"

Sam and I can't help it, we laugh.

Tony looks at Mom in disbelief. "They think this is funny!"

"I think it's that we raised them both, they grew up in the same household."

"Yeah, hilarious. OK, listen, I thought this thing was weird and disturbing from the beginning, but you kids seemed so mature and considerate about it, I didn't know how to say no. But now that I know the truth, I can't let this continue. You two are not to date each other anymore. And if I find out you're sneaking around again, that's it, you're both outahere!"

I expect Mom to protest, but instead she says, "Maybe Jonathan should leave anyway."

"I can't go back to Cambridge!" For one thing, I want to transfer to Yale, and for another, I can't face Susan and everyone now that all this has happened. Besides which, I don't want to go anywhere yet. It's not just about Sam. I want to be with the whole family. I'd rather stay here and get yelled at than have to leave. Not to mention I don't know what I'd tell my boss at Radio Shack.

"Look, Val and I can move out, get an apartment with Bonnie or something. She likes babies. Jonathan shouldn't have to go."

"That's not what I mean, Samantha," Mom says. "I'm not kicking either of you out permanently. But I do think under the circumstances, it would be best to send Jonathan away for the rest of the summer."

Tony looks at her and nods. "Michael's?"

She nods, too. "I think it's for the best.

"You're sending me to Dad's?" I feel like I'm a little kid with no say in the matter. Except when I was a little kid, it was exciting to take my rare trips to California to visit Dad. But I don't know if I can argue about this. After all, they're right, we did lie to them, and we have lost their trust. And I don't know, maybe I should take a break from this situation, especially if Tony won't let me date Sam anymore.

Mom says, "I'll call him tonight."

Grandma storms in from the kitchen, with a crying baby in her arms. "Angela, have you flipped your lid?"


	22. Congratulations

I'm going to call Michael from my office. It's a different number than the house phone, so no one, not even Mother, can listen in. Well, they might hear my side of the conversation, but they won't hear Michael's.

Mother of course does not approve of my sending Jonathan away. It's not that I want to, but what else can Tony and I do? Jonathan and Sam have violated our trust. Not that this is a punishment exactly, but it's the only solution where we can guarantee that he and Sam won't be involved anymore. Yes, part of me wants to send her away, to protect my baby from his "older woman," but it's not as if he's blameless. Perhaps she seduced him, but, as Tony pointed out, he was 18. And he was obviously a very willing participant. Anyway, if Sam left, she would take Val with her, and I can't do that to Tony, make him lose his daughter and his granddaughter. It's better that I make the sacrifice, especially since Jonathan doesn't live here year-round anymore. He'd be heading back to Massachusetts in a couple months anyway.

And, no, we're not going to send him back to Cambridge yet. It's still too close, within driving distance. California will be far enough away. And after the summer? Well, he'll hopefully be distracted by his Fall classes. And maybe the break from Sam will have helped. If not, well, I guess we'll figure out something by Christmas.

I suppose if they won back our trust, acting honorably in the next six months, I could see letting them date again. Tony might be less forgiving at first, but he does tend to come around to what Sam wants, if given enough time.

Tony asked if I wanted him to be in the room when I call, to hold my hand, to give me reassuring looks. But I knew it would be hard for him to hold back, to not want to jump in when Michael says something infuriating, as he inevitably will. I appreciate Tony's support, as always, but I know I need to do this on my own. Afterwards, there will be time to get Tony's comfort.

I don't know if I'll tell Michael the whole truth, about Jonathan's "fling" with Sam. Perhaps I'll just say that they have feelings for each other, as they told us five long weeks ago. That will be reason enough for him to yell at me. If he knew what Sam and Jonathan did while Tony and I were away on a very self-indulgent honeymoon, I'd never hear the end of it.

I sigh and then punch in the long-distance number. It's ten o'clock here, seven there. Hopefully, I'm not catching him and Heather at dinner.

The phone rings awhile and then Heather picks up. I recognize her bubbly hello, like she's hardly changed in the almost ten years of marriage to Michael. Maybe he's been a better husband to her than he was to me, or maybe I just grew up more than she did. Either way, he aged me more than her.

"Hi, Heather. This is Angela."

"Oh, wow, Angela, that is so sweet of you to call!"

"Sweet?"

"Yeah, we figured you'd just send us a card or something when you heard. How did you hear so fast? Did one of Mona's L.A. friends tell her?"

I blink. What am I supposed to have heard?

"What does Jonathan think? Is he excited?"

"Excited?"

"Yeah, I know he's always wanted to have a little brother or sister."

I'm about to ask how she knows I'm pregnant, when I've been putting off telling Michael. And then it sinks in: she's pregnant, too! I remember now that Mother wrote to us that Heather wanted a baby, but I hadn't heard anything more about it and it slipped my mind, overshadowed by my own wish to be pregnant, and of course all the other things that have happened.

"Yes, he has," I say, although he and I have not talked about it in years and years. I remember now, sometime after he sent me and Tony on a blind date, he asked me, "If you and Tony do change your minds and have sex, will you have a baby?"

I was very glad that Mother and Sam, not to mention Tony, were not around. I replied, "Babies do come from sex, Sweetheart, but not every time."

"What if you were married? I know Tony doesn't have babies with his girlfriends."

"No, he doesn't. Um, if I married someone and he wanted to have a baby, then I would like to have one, yes."

"Oh, that's OK then. Tony likes kids."

And with a child's short attention span, he changed the subject to something else, probably his pet lizard. I got the impression that he wanted me to have a baby with Tony, or at least wouldn't mind it, but when I later dated Geoffrey, Jonathan never indicated any interest in my having a baby with Geoffrey. And I never saw myself as having one with Geoffrey either. Not just because I didn't love Geoffrey, as I already subconsciously loved Tony, but also because Geoffrey wasn't the slightest bit fatherly.

I wonder if Jonathan asked Michael and Heather about whether and when they would have a baby, since they were after all married and having sex, unlike me and Tony back then. Also, Heather is younger than I am, so it would be a natural question. It did cross my own mind over the years, but she and Michael are both so self-absorbed that it seemed unlikely.

"Angela, are you still there?"

"Oh, yes, sorry. Um, how far along are you?"

"Just two months tomorrow!"

"Oh. So a January baby?"

"Right."

Well, at least it won't be the same calendar year as my baby and Val.

"Can I talk to Michael please?"

"Of course! You want to congratulate him, too."

"Yes."

"Hold on. Michael!"  
"Yeah?"

"It's Angela!"

"What now?"

"No, Sweetie Pie, she's calling to congratulate us."

"Oh, I thought you meant Angela Micelli."

"I did."

Their next few remarks are muffled, as if she's got her hand over the phone.

Then I hear, "Angela?"

"Hello, Michael. Congratulations on the baby."

"Oh, well, thanks." He sounds wary, as if he suspects my sincerity. He must know I think he's a terrible father, but I am trying to be nice about this, and not just because I need to ask him a huge favor.

"I'm sure Jonathan will be very happy for you."

"I thought you'd told him already. Heather said—"

"No, she and I miscommunicated a little. I hadn't realized till this phone call."

"Oh. Wait, then why are you calling?"

I sigh. "Well, actually, I wondered if Jonathan could come visit you this summer."

"Oh. Well, yeah, I guess. Maybe for a week or two."

"Um, I was hoping for longer."

"I don't know. This isn't the best time. Heather has morning sickness and she's cranky sometimes. Maybe next summer. Well, no, that probably won't be much better, with a little baby in the house."

"Michael, Jonathan is your child, too."

"Angela, he's hardly a child. He's a college man. Why the urgency?"

"You haven't seen him in two years! Not since his high school graduation!"

"I've been traveling a lot."

"You're always traveling a lot!"

"God damn it, Angela, isn't there some sort of statute of limitations on nagging after a divorce?"

"Is it nagging to ask you to pay some attention to your son?"

"I do pay attention to him. I call and write to him when he's away at college and I'm even thinking of getting E-mail."

I shake my head. If Michael can't see the importance of being with someone in person, there's no point in explaining.

"If you wanted him to stay the whole summer, why didn't you ask last year, when you had that 'honeymoon'?"

Oh, how I wish I had! Then Jonathan wouldn't have gotten involved with Sam. But I hate the snide way Michael said "honeymoon." It's like the way he reacted when I told him I was engaged to Tony: "Wow, after all those pompous asses you dated, I never expected you to go for the earthy type." In one sentence, he managed to insult me, Tony, and Grant et al.

"What's so special about this year?"

I hesitate and then say, "Well, he's involved with someone inappropriate."

"Oh my God! I knew it!"

How could he know? What does he know?

"Well, this is your own fault you know, with your feminism and your gender-bending 'housekeeper' and everything."

"Excuse me?"

"You raised Jonathan with a completely messed-up view of sex roles. You had to have that high-powered career with the giant shoulder pads—"

I can't help laughing. I haven't worn giant shoulder pads since the '80s ended.

He doesn't notice my laughter. "And then you hire a man to do the housework that you were too incompetent to do, and he brings along his tomboy daughter to add to the confusion, so no wonder Jonathan turned out gay!"

I'm simultaneously amused and outraged. I want to tell him that I wouldn't mind if our son were gay but Jonathan is in fact involved with the tomboy, and I want to tell him that I'm pregnant, too, and I would never consider Jonathan a burden just because of a new baby. But I realize that if he finds out about Jonathan and Sam's relationship, he's going to blame me, particularly since it happened during my honeymoon. And I don't really feel like sharing the news about my baby. I once shared a life and a child with this man, but he is not my family.

"Thank you for your pop psychology, Michael," I say as calmly as I can. "Jonathan is in fact involved with a woman, and now that I think about it, I'd much rather he spend time with her than you. Better luck with your next kid!" Then I hang up the phone.

When I leave my office, Mother is standing there, looking smug and not the slightest bit guilty about having eavesdropped. "I should've known," she says. "I should've known that you wouldn't be able to ask a big favor of Michael without losing your temper."

"And I should've known you'd be listening."

"Of course, Dear."

"Where is everyone else?"

"Sam and Val are at the apartment. Tony is grading papers in the kitchen and Jonathan went up to his room."

"OK. Did you know about Heather's pregnancy?"

"No, my Californian spies have failed me."

I shake my head. "We should've left you in Hollywood if we wanted to know what Michael and Heather are up to."

"Why didn't you tell him what's going on here?"

"He was being very judgmental and I didn't see the point. He'll find out when he finds out. Jonathan can call or write to him I suppose. Michael seems to prefer that."

"And you're going to let Jonathan see Sam after all?"

I sigh. "I don't know, Mother. I need to talk to Tony about this."

"People make mistakes, Angela. You have to forgive."

I shake my head. "Two step-siblings hopping into bed together and then lying about it is more than a 'mistake.' "

"They were afraid to tell you and Tony."

"But they told you. And you chose their side."

"Angela."

"Mother, I can barely forgive myself for letting this happen. Don't expect me to forgive you and the kids just yet."

She sighs. "Goodnight, Dear." And she leaves out the back door, presumably to go talk to Sam.

I don't bother to stop her. I need to talk to Tony. He's the only one who understands how I feel.


	23. Shooting Hoops

"Shoot some hoops?" Jonathan says, like it's a foreign concept.

"Yeah. Didn't you and Sam shoot a lot of hoops last summer? Or were you lying about that, too?"

He blushes a little. "No, we did. And we'd play Frisbee a lot."

"Well, you don't want to get rusty now that you've got an indoor job."

"As opposed to all the jobs where I'd be playing basketball?"

"Jonathan," Mona says impatiently, "he's trying to bond with you. Go!"

"Oh, OK. Let me change first." He heads upstairs.

"Mona, it's not about bonding."

She shrugs. "Sure, just like Angela asking Sam to go with her to the obstetrician's office tomorrow. You two aren't at all swallowing your pride and admitting you're wrong."

"We're not wrong! We just—Look, Mone, this is an unsolvable situation. We all have to live with it and deal with it. It'd be nice if we could send Jonathan to California for a couple months and just not face it, but we'd have to eventually I guess. Even if he got over Sam, there's still the past. That can't be undone."

"So shooting hoops is going to help you face it?"

"Mona, with all due respect, please butt out."

She shakes her head. "And I thought you were the nice son-in-law."

I snort. I'm at least nicer than Michael ever was. That jerk said everything wrong when Angela called him, so she ended up not telling him what's really going on. Which is OK I guess. I mean, these are our kids. We're the ones who should be handling the situation. And I'm sorry, but shooting hoops is how I parent sometimes.

Jonathan comes downstairs in shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers, having changed out of the tie etc. he wears for work. We haven't eaten yet, but Angela's cooking tonight. Thank God that is no longer a thought to strike fear into the hearts of men.

She didn't tell me everything that Michael said (and Mona was only eavesdropping on the Angela half of course), but one thing was that he claimed she was incompetent at housework. Well, yeah, at the time of the divorce, sure. And the woman couldn't even boil an egg! She had servants most of her life, and it's not like Mona's any more domestic than Angela. But Angela has learned a lot in the last few years, yeah, from her "gender-bending housekeeper."

She smiles when we pass through the kitchen with the basketball, but she's too intent on following the recipe to pay us much attention.

It's a beautiful Sunday evening in June, just the right temperature for basketball. I realize I haven't played in awhile myself. I don't see my old pals from Brooklyn as much since I got married, and obviously Sam and I didn't shoot hoops right before or after she had the baby. And Jonathan was away at school of course. I guess I could've played with Angela, but she has that sneaky way of distracting me through kisses.

I wait till we each make a couple baskets before I ask Jonathan how work was. I don't want to lead right into this, especially since I still don't know exactly what I want to say.

He tells me how it's going. They seem to like him and he's learning the routine there.

"And it's science, right? Mona says you're thinking about switching to Science for your major."

"Well, yeah, but natural sciences."

I smile a little. "Like bugs and snakes?"

"Exactly."

An image flashes into my mind, a little blond boy with a couple missing teeth and a pet snake. That is the kid I won over on the path to getting my "brand new life" job. But I liked him for himself. I wouldn't have taken the job if he hadn't won me over, too.

I dribble the ball, trying to focus on the game, trying not to think of how this kid touched my heart, so by the time I knew him a year or two, I couldn't stand the thought of losing him, and I promised to be his friend forever.

What was it about Jonathan? He was never the confident little charmer that Billy was. Billy was like me as a kid, like the son I could've had with Angela if we'd gotten together right away. Jonathan was always weird and awkward, nothing like any "real son" of mine would be.

"Tony, are you in pain?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Oh, it looked like you were cr—Well, are you gonna shoot or not?"

"Yeah, of course." I shoot and miss, and it's an easy shot, too.

"You're losing your touch," he says, catching the ball.

"Well, I'm a little rusty, too."

He smiles and prepares to shoot.

Then I say, "Sorry to be a yo-yo about this, but you can see Sam again."

He misses the shot. "What did you say?"

I catch the ball. "You can see Sam. Under the terms we agreed to before. Except, Angela and I aren't going to sit for Val when you two have dates."

"Oh. What about Grandma?"

"Nah, I'm not falling for that again."

He smiles a little. "That wasn't our fault."

"I know. But if Sam wants to be a mom who dates, she'll have to figure out how to manage it. If you two want to be treated like adults, we can't spoil you."

"OK. I guess that's fair.

"It's the best deal you're going to get."

I aim and I'm about to shoot when he says, "I want to transfer to Yale."

This time the ball falls straight down, on my foot.

"WHAT?"

"I want to live closer than Massachusetts."

"Because of Sam?" I whisper.

"Because of everything. I want to get to know at least one of my half-siblings." (Angela told him at breakfast about Heather being pregnant. Yes, there was a comical misunderstanding, when he thought she was accusing him of knocking up the Harper girl.) "And even if I didn't have feelings for Sam, this family is really important to me. I would've hated to leave you all, even for the chance to finally see Dad again."

Now I know I'm gonna cry. But Yale? New Haven is only half an hour away!

"Would you move back home?"

He shakes his head. "I don't think that's a good idea. But I'll visit, if that's OK."

Jesus, I hadn't even considered the possibility of him and Sam dating during the school year. He could come home every week! Hell, every day!

Before I can reply, someone races over and steals the ball off the ground. "You guys are so lame!" My daughter makes a basket before I've even registered that she's there.

Jonathan grins at her and I notice she's in shorts and a T-shirt, too. Oh, God, if he's gonna ogle her in front of me, I don't think I can take this.

Then Angela catches the ball and says, "Girls against guys?"

"You're on!" Jonathan says.

The girls win. No, Angela doesn't distract me through kissing, but she's wearing shorts, too, and damn that woman's legs look good. She's almost three months pregnant now and she should be getting varicose veins in another month or two, but for now, that is the same set of stems that I first glimpsed stepping out of the tub, the ones that made the maître d' at Chez Rene say he hoped that Monsieur was a leg-man. And I was, I am, especially for those legs.

In fact, I'm so distracted by Angela, I don't even notice if Jonathan is eying Sam. I remain distracted all through dinner, which we have right after the girls win. And right after dinner, I ask Angela, "Uh, can I get your opinion on the phrasing of my quiz questions?"

She smiles and says, "Of course."

I ignore the smirks of Mona and, oh jeez, the kids. All I can focus on are Angela's legs as they follow mine through the swinging door.

I can't think of anything else till I've been between those legs, felt them wrap around mine and then around my butt, and then on my shoulders as I finish. "Sogoodsogoodsogood!" I chant as I come.

"I didn't know basketball was such a turn-on for you," she says, still smiling, as I lie next to her.

"Only when I'm playing against you."

"I'm sorry Sam and I interrupted the male bonding."

Then I remember everything else, what Jonathan and I talked about. I think of telling her about Yale and everything, but she flexes her legs and I start caressing them and then between them, less frantically than when we came in here and I peeled off her shorts and panties.

"Eye on the ball," I murmur and she laughs.


	24. Chicks Sitting Around Talking

"Do you want some tea?"

She smiles at me. She knows Dad had me drink a lot of tea when I was pregnant. "Maybe just a little."

Angela has always had a small bladder and it's worse now that's she's pregnant. We talk about pregnancy, comparing notes in a different way than last year, when I was the newbie and she was the veteran.

"I've forgotten a lot, but it's coming back to me now."

"Have you forgotten the pain of labor?"

"Mostly. Have you?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I mean it's not as vivid as it was, after four months, but yeah, I'm in no hurry to go through that again."

"Well, don't wait twenty years for your second baby like me. Uh, not that I think you should rush into it again any time soon."  
"Don't worry, I won't. That's one reason to take it slow."

"Yes."  
"Angela, I am really sorry for lying to you and Dad. It was stupid and immature."

"Well, I can see how you might be scared to tell your father."

"Yeah. And I figured you'd hate me for 'using' Jonathan."

"I'm not happy with what you did, Sam, but I could never hate you. Just, just promise me that you two will think about how your actions affect, or can affect, other people."

I nod. "We're trying. But I don't know what to do about Joanne Parker and the other gossips in the neighborhood."

"Hold your head high. Don't get in any fist fights."

I laugh. "Do you know when you won me over?"

"When I helped you buy a bra?"

"No, that was when you became Angela instead of Mrs. Bower. You won me over when you had your cat fight in Marty's Melody Room."

She shakes her head. "I can't believe your father wanted me to be your female role model after that."

"Nah, it was cool! We saw you were just as tough as we were, but a lady, too."

"Well, thank you, but it's still not one of my prouder moments."

"Aah, Theresa deserved it, from the sound of it." I sip some more tea before I say, "You're the first one of Dad's girlfriends that I liked."

"Really? Not even—"

"No, especially not her."  
"You were polite to her."

"Well, I was 18. I was trying to be adult. But before that, I never really made an effort. Most of his girlfriends didn't stick around long, or he didn't let them stick around long anyway. We were a team, the two of us. Well, us and Grandpa Matty when he was alive."

"Yes, it was sort of like that for me, Mother, and Jonathan. Before you two entered our lives."

"Yeah. Angela, I want you to know that my attraction to Jonathan surprised me as much as it surprised you."

"Really?"

"Oh, I don't mean that how it sounds. It's not that he's ugly or anything." I'm not doing a very good job of explaining this.

"You thought of him as your kid brother."

"Yeah. When I first met him, I thought he was adorable in a little kid kind of way, though I was trying to be tough all the time, so I never showed that. And then later, as I became a teenager, and even more after he became a teenager, he was like a kid brother in an annoying way. And then, well, we got along better after Dad started seeing Kathleen, I hate to say. We felt like our dad had cheated on our mom, so it was something we had in common."

"Oh."

"Even then, the age difference seemed enormous, and we were never exactly peers. Plus, we didn't really have anything in common. I loved him like family but I don't know that we would've been friends if we hadn't lived together."

"And then it changed last summer."

"Yeah. And I don't know what it'll develop into. Maybe it won't go anywhere. But we need to find out."

"Sam, you two must have some sort of strong bond. Is it that you, you had sex?"

"I don't think so. Or that's not all of it anyway. And it's partly that he was there for me when I most needed someone. But besides that, I feel a connection to him and a kind of completeness, in a peaceful way, that's different than I ever had before. Even when we fight, it's not like it's tearing us apart, like with Matt."

"Hm."

"I'm not gonna compare it to what you have with Dad, because I compared me and Hank to you two, and I was wrong. And anyway, I think what Jonathan and I have is different."

"Yes," she says softly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spill my guts like this, but I wanted you to understand a little of what I'm going through."

She nods and sips her tea. Then she smiles a little. "Sam, do you remember when you were in high school and you had the crush on the married grad student?"

"Oh, geez, don't remind me! See, this is what I mean about how I always fall too hard and why I'm trying to be cautious this time."

"Well, that wasn't my point. I was just thinking of how you introduced the topic by saying that I always wanted to have more mother-daughter talks."

I laugh. "Poor Angela! I was always putting you in the middle with me and Dad."

"No, that's where I wanted to be. I loved moments like that. Well, not having to keep things from your father, but hearing what was going on in your life. And at that point, I thought I'd never have a daughter of my own." She absent-mindedly puts her hand on her still flat stomach.

"Do you want a daughter this time?" Her check-up today of course was still too early for ultrasound. She's not even done with the first trimester yet.

"In some ways, yes. But I love the son I already have. And I love the daughter I already have."

"Oh, Angela!"

We share a weepy hug.

"I promise you, whatever happens with Jonathan, I don't want to lose your friendship."

She wipes my eyes and says, "I don't want to lose either of you."

"Hey, come on, we're family!"

She laughs.

And then Val cries.

"I should probably get going," Angela says. "I'd planned to work from home for the rest of the day. Plus, I need to call work and make sure Mother isn't goofing off too much."

"Mona has grown up a lot in the last few years."

She strokes my hair. "So have you."

I smile. Then we hug goodbye and I go up to see to my daughter. I change her and then take her downstairs so I can nurse her while listening to this one very laidback group, mellow as Angela and Dad would've said back in the day.

We're just chillin', in the zone, and I try not to worry that Val will someday put me through mother-daughter drama. Then someone knocks on the door.

I don't want to get up so I yell, "Who is it?", hoping that won't upset Val. But she's too focused on me and the milk.

"It's Bonnie."

Oh. We haven't really talked in awhile. I mean, I went to her graduation ceremony last month, but her family and everybody were there.

"Come in. It's unlocked."

She comes in, closes the door behind her, and says, "Sam, what the heck are you doing?"  
I look down. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Not that! The stuff with Jonathan."

"Oh. Can that wait till Val finishes up?"

"Yeah, sorry." She sits down. "Who is this? The music I mean. It's really nice."

"Shoelaced with Iron Knee."

"And it's a kids' band?"

I shrug. "It's the '90s."

The music seems to mellow her out, too, so by the time I come back from putting Val down for a nap, Bonnie is mild on "So what's going on with Jonathan?"

I sigh and sit down. "What have you heard?"

"Well, this is pretty third-hand but—God, I can't believe you never told me anything! We used to be best friends!"

That's true, we were best friends in high school. But then I skipped senior year and our lives went in different directions. I was experiencing different things, from dorm life and cramming at the library all night to, well, an engagement and an elopement. We remained friends, but even when she went to college, our lives stayed different.

"Well, when Jonathan and I started to have feelings for each other—"

"You really like him that way?"

"Yeah, I do."  
She shakes her head. "You always said he was an annoying little dweeb."

"He was. But he's grown up."

"I guess. I'm less surprised he has feelings for you. I always wondered if he had a crush on you."

"You did?" Not to be mean, but Bonnie is not the most perceptive person I've ever met. How did she see that and I didn't? Angela suspected it, but she is very sensitive about other people's feelings, usually.

"Yeah. Even the way he annoyed you, it was how boys show they like a girl before they're mature enough to just say so."

"Oh. Well, it's not like he could've said so."  
"Right. So he finally admitted it to you?"

"Yeah, sort of. It's a long story."

"Is it true about the condoms in the car?"

I blush. "So you heard that part?"

"Oh, yeah, it's all over town."

"Bonnie!"  
"Well, maybe not all over, but different rumors are flying. So I decided to go straight to the source."  
"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

"OK." I take a deep breath. "We spent the night together once last summer."  
"A whole night?"  
I smile a little. "Yeah, a whole night."

"And you fooled around?"  
"Yeah, we fooled around."

"Wow!"

"So are you shocked, disgusted, cool with this?"

"I don't know, Sam. I mean, you're my friend and you're usually the sensible one." (This is sadly true.) "Like that time in Fort Lauderdale when you saw through those two guys and played mom to me. On the other hand, it's not like Jonathan is some guy you just met."  
"No, not exactly."

"You must really like him, to go through all this."  
"Yeah, I do."  
"Are you in love with him?"  
"No, I don't think so."

"But you used to fall in love all the time! Even though you were sensible. Like that guy with the literary club, the grad student."  
"Yeah."

"You just kept going to the meetings, even after you found out he was married. But not because you were after him, just because you liked the books. And I dropped out because it involved too much reading."

"Right. As for my feelings for Jonathan, and his for me, we're still sorting through them. We're taking it slow, seeing what happens."

"See? Sensible."  
I laugh. "Thanks."  
"Except I guess it's not too sensible to date your stepbrother."  
"No, not really."

"So what should I tell Julia or anybody if they ask?"

"Tell them I'm happy and I don't know what the future will bring."  
She nods. "Thank you for being honest with me."  
"Thank you for listening."  
"You're welcome. So, Sam, how do you guys manage to have dates when you've got a little baby? I mean, my sister and her husband have two kids and they never go out unless they can find a sitter. Sometimes I get stuck with it."  
"Oh, you don't like babysitting?"  
"Not for free! I mean, I like my nephews, but I could use the money."

"You don't have a job yet?"

"I'm still looking. You know I did Hospitality Management, so I'm looking for a hotel job. Does Mona's brother need anyone?"

"No, that hotel went out business a couple years ago."

"Oh, too bad. I've got an application at the Fairfield Inn, but I haven't heard back yet."

Good thing she wasn't there the night of Angela's birthday. That probably would've been weird for Dad.

"Well, if you need some extra cash, would you like to sit for Val sometime?"

"Yeah, that'd be great! She's a really cute baby and I have practice with my nephews."

I smile. "That sounds perfect."

"And I'll probably have kids of my own someday. Not that I'm in any rush. No offence."

"None taken."

"But why don't you have your dad and Angela babysit? Wouldn't that be more convenient? And cheaper."

"Um, let me get us tea and I'll explain that part."


	25. With a Little Help

"I'm going to kill your father!"

"Aw, Mone, he means well."

"Means well?! How is revealing my age to all my boyfriends meaning well?"

She smiles sheepishly. "Well, at least it's only your current ones."

I knew he and Angela were planning a surprise party for my birthday, but I could not have predicted that the theme would be _Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band_. They're the Beatles fans, not I. And then when Tony and the Dreamtones launched into an a capella version of "When I'm 64," I fled to the kitchen.

I actually thought it was going to be a '30s theme, probably classic Hollywood, when I saw the Mae West costume in my room. That, too, would've been an allusion to my age, since I'm another classic from the '30s, but at least that would've been vaguer. Then I saw my grandson dressed as a kite.

"What are you supposed to be?"

He blushed. "I can't tell you."

Turns out he's Mr. Kite, as in For the Benefit of.

The girl pleading with me to return to the living room is Lovely Rita Meter Maid. "Come on, Mone, the party's no fun without the guest of honor."

I sigh. I guess the damage has been done. And I don't want to spoil the party. I nod and follow her into the living room.

I will admit that, tactless song choice aside, Tony and Angela have done an impressive job with the party. The living room, which has been almost unchanged since Angela and Michael bought the house about twenty years ago, has been transformed to reflect the Summer of Love. (My 36th birthday was celebrated intimately with a man with sideburns, a droopy mustache, love beads, and bellbottoms, although he wasn't technically a hippie.) Lots of flowers and psychedelic colors. Even a few beanbags mixed in with the usual furniture. And Tony made Yellow Submarine sandwiches, with Mean Mr. Mustard, Glass Onions, and Sesame Mucho bread. Dessert is Honey Pie and Savoy Truffle.

"Rita" takes her daughter, dressed as Shirley Temple, from Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and goes over to talk to whichever of my boyfriends is dressed as Karl Marx. (I can't tell with the beard.)

"Mother, I'm really sorry about that."

I shrug. "I know he means well."  
"He does! We both do."

I look at my daughter, in a flowing black gown with diamante, and real diamonds in her fake blonde hair. She's in her fourth month of pregnancy now, but it's not obvious in that outfit.

"You look lovely, Dear."

She's startled. I don't compliment her often, and usually not her appearance. "Oh! Well, thank you. So do you."

"Thank you."

"Thank you for loaning me the tiara."  
"You're welcome."

Then she smiles and says, "Goodness, what beautiful diamonds!"

I know my cue. "Goodness had nothing to do with it."

We both laugh. It's hard for us to stay mad at each other. We always make up. Even our more serious fallings out, like the time she found out about my extramarital affair, or the time I thought she was trying to get rid of me by moving me into a condo, we always talk things out.

I mill around. If any of my beaus care about my age, they show no evidence of it. Instead, I get many compliments on my outfit, and, yes, I tell them to come up and see me sometime.

(Actually, I very rarely have company at home since Tony's switcheroo with the young newlyweds. Occasionally, the house is empty long enough, but the only time Angela and Tony have been gone for an extended period during their marriage was last summer, when Jonathan and Sam were home. And I was away at a hotel in Los Angeles, so that's where I did my entertaining.)

Sam once asked me how I keep my boyfriends (and my not-quite-boyfriends) from getting jealous of each other. I said one thing is that I generally keep it from getting too serious. Also, I think jealousy is seldom really about sex. Sex may be part of it, but much of the time jealousy comes from a fear of losing what the person offers you emotionally. Most people connect sex and emotion to one degree or another, so if your partner is having sex with someone else, you might think that they're going to take away something emotionally from you.

Look at Angela. Had Tony just "pulled an all-nighter" with Kathleen, Angela could've gotten over it. She knew that Tony had been with other women but he always came back to her. I think she sensed that she was the one he loved and she meant home to him. But Tony by then was no longer the Brooklyn stud.

Oh, he was still sexy, but he wasn't out to date as many women as he could. Had Kathleen come along at the time of Professor Morell, or even the Catwoman (I forget her name, but she bought a dozen calendars because of Mr. February, which was a great benefit to the Humane Society), I think he could've just walked away the next morning. But by then, he thought sex had to mean something emotional. So he tried to build a relationship out of it, although his heart wasn't in it, and it almost cost him his relationship with Angela.

The funny thing is, looking back five years later, he was more jealous of Andy, Christopher, and even Peter than Angela ever was of Kathleen. Oh, not that she was happy about it. But she also had decided to be patient and wait, to see if their "journey" brought them back together. And it did, with a few more detours by the blind nun of course.

Anyway, Robert is the only man I've ever really loved, and only a few others have come close to that. Max and James Earl and—

"Walter! What are you doing here?" I go over to the man in the Fred Astaire costume.

"Hi, Mona. I hope you don't mind that Tony invited me."

"Tony invited you?" That son-in-law of mine!

"Yes. I made a small donation to Ridgemont recently, and we ran into each other on campus."

Knowing Walter, that "small" donation was probably in the quadruple digits. "I see."

Tony, or "Billy Shears" as he's known tonight, steps up to the microphone again. The band was on a break and Mr. Kite was spinning platters. Mr. Shears says, "This goes back a few years earlier for the Fab Four, but I want to dedicate this song to our birthday girl, the most youthful woman I know." Then he launches into, "Well, she was just 17, you know what I mean."

Walter holds out his hand and asks, "Shall we dance?"

"Well, I can't exactly say no to Fred Astaire, can I? But this is going to have to be a slow dance because I can't move too fast in this long, clingy dress."

He smiles. "I've always wanted to slow dance with Mae West."

It's been over 45 years since we danced together, back when we were engaged. We did date briefly when we reunited, what was it, five years ago? But that was more of a making up than a new beginning. And I haven't seen him since Sam briefly dated his grandson.

It feels good to be in his arms again. I remember how I pretended to be jealous in order to get out of my engagement, once I met Robert. As Tony has told me more than once, I don't consider men's feelings enough. Well, I'm better about it than I used to be. Like Sam, I've grown up some in the last few years.

She and Jonathan are dancing together, but not touch-dancing. They're beginning to express their affection in simple ways, things that won't upset Tony or worry Angela. A touch on the arm, a meaningful glance, things that would be easy to miss.

I don't know if any of my beaus know about my grandson's unorthodox romance, or if they'd care. I notice Tony didn't invite any of the neighbors (not even the Hendersons), or any of his, Angela's, Sam's, or Jonathan's friends. The gossip continues to circulate through the neighborhood, but the family is doing our best to ignore it. At least now, unlike when Joanne Parker spread rumors about Tony and Angela, no one is getting into fist fights over it.

Then Walter quietly says, "So she's seeing Jonathan now."

I nod. I wonder if he was hoping Sam could get back with Eric now that she's divorced. But Eric must've moved on by now, and they were never that serious. He was just one of her post-Jesse pre-Matt beaus.

When we take a break in the dancing, Sam drags me into the kitchen. (Lucy is minding Shirley again.) "Mona, isn't that Walter Nordstrom?"

"Why, yes, I believe it is."  
"What's he doing here?"

I shrug. "Your father invited him."

"Why does he always interfere like this?"

"Oh, Sam, he means well."  
"I think he's going to use Walter to try to get me back with Eric and away from Jonathan."

"Dear, I think you're being paranoid."

"When it comes to my father, sometimes he really is out to get me."

"But why would he want you with Eric in particular?"

"Mona, Dad loved Eric. You all did!"

"Well, I'm not trying to get you back together. Unless there's another Janet Jackson concert."

She shakes her head. "What about when he invited Mason to my surprise birthday party?"

"Hm. Maybe he'll invite Jesse to your next birthday."

She rolls her eyes.

"Sam, it is possible he's trying to get me back with Walter."

"Nah, he has no reason to fix you up."

Sometimes her self-absorption impresses me, and I say that as an egotist.

Jonathan comes in and asks, "Why do you two keep disappearing to the kitchen?"

"We need to get more hors d'oeuvres."  
"Dear, why don't you help her? I've got to get back to my guests."

"Uh, sure."

As I leave, I hear Sam whisper, "Nice tail, Mr. Kite," and Jonathan exclaim, "Sam!"

Tony comes over to me at the fireplace and asks, "Enjoying the party, Mone?"  
"I've got to admit it's getting better."

He grins. "It can't get no worse."


	26. Battery Park

"Go ahead, Sam."  
"I feel silly, Jonathan."  
"You promised."

She sighs. "OK." It's not like she doesn't know why we came here, but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel self-conscious. But after awhile she gets into it, not seeming to mind.

I think of a poem I read last semester, by William W. Purkey:

"You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,  
Love like you'll never be hurt,  
Sing like there's nobody listening,  
And live like it's heaven on earth."

There are a few people watching, but it's New York. No one really cares.

I think of her dancing drunk on a table over a year ago, a couple hours before she first kissed me. The only way I could get her to stop was to climb up on the table and join her dance. But this time, after watching how happy and beautiful she looks, I join in because I want to be part of that. Not that I'm very good at the Hustle. She smiles and it's like the whole city lights up.

We take the ferry round trip, although we don't dance the whole time of course. Mostly, we hold hands and look at the view.

I sigh. "I'm glad we came here."

"Me, too. It's good to get out of Connecticut."

"Do you remember when we ran away to Brooklyn eleven years ago?"

"Um, as I remember it, I ran 'home' and you tagged along."

"Well, you made it sound so appealing."  
She laughs. "Yeah, the cockroaches and everything."

"Yeah. You always made everything seem like an adventure." Like my dad, I now realize.

"Maybe you can study entomology after all, with a dissertation on cockroaches."

"Actually, I'm still leaning more towards herpetology. But I found out that Yale, no college really, offers it as a major, even at the graduate level."  
"So what are you going to do? You still applied for a transfer, right?"

"Yeah, I applied. I'll major in Biology but apply it to snakes."

"Oh, I see. And then what? After college I mean?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Maybe work in a zoo. We'll see. It's still two years till graduation, maybe longer if not all of my credits transfer over from MIT."  
"Are you sure you want to do this, Jonny?"

I smile. "Yes, Mantha." We don't use those names too often. We're still Sam and Jonathan to each other, because that's what we've always been, nicknames aside. "And not just because of Us. I want to spend time with Mom's baby, and Val, before I go out into the world."

She bites her lip.

"That's still two years away. Anything can happen."

She swallows. "Right."

We're still not making promises. We still can't really look to the future, although there might be one, if we can get through this time.

One reason we're glad to be out of Fairfield is that the gossip does get to us. The neighbors have been awful. Sam says she'd rather deal with Brooklyn gossip, where everything's on the table, not veiled, "polite" little remarks. It's mostly the women Mom's age, but not only.

"Did I tell you what Ernie said yesterday?" I now ask.

She shakes her head.

"The latest rumor is that we were having sex in the drive-through at McDonald's."

She laughs. "Was the car moving?"

"Slowly."

Ernie is sympathetic but he's not going to stop spreading the gossip. He told me he sees himself as a medieval troubadour, journeying from castle to castle, delivering the news. When I told Sam that, we had a good laugh, imagining that little sparkplug of a guy with tights and a lute.

Her friends, well, Charlie and Bonnie anyway, have been supportive. She hasn't talked much to the friends she and Hank had as a couple. As for me, I've just told Steven. He thinks it's "weird but hot," but then he's always had a little crush on Sam. We haven't told anyone at work, because it's none of their business, although Sam is sort of friends with her bosses.

No, we're not having sex, at McDonald's or anywhere. We kiss a lot, usually in the privacy of her living room. We go out to dinner sometimes when Bonnie can sit for Val, but not the movies. The family's supposed to go see Norman's movie when it comes out next month, which should be interesting. Yeah, it was in post-production for a long time.

We dock at Battery Park in Manhattan. We stroll through the park, hand in hand. Even that feels great, since we're so self-conscious in Fairfield.

"It's been a really nice day," she says.

"Yeah." We didn't do anything amazing, just hung out and did New York stuff. You know, buying food from street vendors, riding the subway, getting mugged in Central Park. Kidding. Actually, we did a carriage ride. We knew it was corny, but we did it anyway.

The weather was great, although Sam says it can be sticky-hot in the summer. It's cooled down now that the sun has set of course.

"I don't really get to just hang out here anymore."

"Because of Val?"

"Well, yeah, and now that I come to New York for work. It's been fun to play tourist with you."

"Showing the country boy the big city?"

She laughs. "Well, the suburban boy."

"And you're the sophisticated city girl."  
"Yeah, out to corrupt you."

Then we look at each other and kiss. It's not like our kisses these last couple months. It's less inhibited, more passionate. Even though we're in public, I feel freer than I do at home, where I feel like a thousand eyes are watching us. And judging from the way her mouth is moving against mine, and the way her hand is grabbing my butt, she feels the same. I'm not that bold, but I do stroke her hair, which is again in a bob.

Then someone shouts, "Sam? JONATHAN?"

We spring apart. Ohshitohshitohshit!

"Hank," she whispers.

He runs over. "What the hell is going on? Where's Valley?"

Sam doesn't even object to the nickname for their child, a name I happen to know Sam hates. "With a sitter," she says faintly.

"Our five-month-old baby is with a babysitter while you're making out with Jonathan in New York?"

That's true, but the way he says it makes it sound horrible.

Then a woman with long, straight strawberry blonde hair comes over and says, "Hanky? What's going on?"

Sam and I sneak a look at each other and it's all we can do to keep from bursting out laughing.

"Lisa, I'd like you to meet Jonathan, Sam's stepbrother," Hank says, his tone a lot less polite than his words.

"Oh, her step—um, pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," I say and shake her hand, because I figure I at least should be polite.

"Yes, Jonathan," Sam says, and her tone is now as snide as Hank's, "this is the woman Hank cheated on me with and left me for, after he donated sperm for Valley."

Hank and Lisa both look self-conscious.

"Well, it's getting late and we've got to be getting home," I say, figuring I'm the one who's supposed to be the reasonable person in this situation.

"Just a minute. Sam, you still haven't told me what's going on."  
"I don't see how it's any of your business, Hank, considering you live in sin with Lisa."

"And what are you and Jonathan living in?"

"Hank, you and I live our own lives now and—"

"Uh huh. What are you exposing my daughter to? That is, if she is my daughter."

She shoots him a killing look. "You did not just say that."

"How long has this been going on, Sam? After all, you took awhile to tell me I was going to be a father. No, I'm sorry, you didn't tell me. You told my mother and then asked for child support."

"You are seriously delusional. That is not at all how things happened." Her voice is surprisingly calm but I'm bracing myself for the unleashing of the Micelli temper.

"Oh? How did they happen?"

"Hanky, maybe this isn't the time and place."

"Oh, right, Leese, let's all go get some coffee and discuss this calmly."

She flinches at his sarcasm being directed at her.

"You asshole!" I stare at Sam. "There's no need to hurt poor Lisa." The other two now stare at her. "Jesus Goddamn Christ!" A nun stares at her. "Sorry, Sister." Sam shakes her head. "Hank, Val is your daughter but she's mostly mine. I'm the one who takes care of her six and a half days a week. If it's a crime for me to want to take a break once in awhile, then throw me in jail!"

"A break? Is that what this is?"

"I like Jonathan. He makes me happy. Don't make a federal case out of it."

"And I'm the delusional one?"

"Goodnight, Hank. See you on Tuesday." She walks away quickly and I have no choice but to follow, although I do wave goodnight.

She hails a taxi just as I catch up with her. She asks to be taken to the train station. I guess we're heading back to Fairfield.

I don't say anything at first, and then I notice she's quietly crying.

"You want a hanky?"

She snorts. "No thanks. God, I made such an idiot out of myself!"

"No, you were great. Sorry I didn't say more but I didn't know what to say."

"It's fine. I don't think there was any right thing to say in that situation."

I shake my head. "God, what are the odds we'd run into him? Them?"

"Well, they do live in New York."

"So do millions of other people."

"Yeah. Why did they have to be in Battery Park tonight? Why did they have to catch us kissing?"

"At least it's not like he caught us in bed."

She laughs and then frowns. "God, why are we putting it that way, 'catching us'? We haven't done anything wrong!"

"Especially not recently."

She smiles a little. "Well, that's why I grabbed your butt."

I blush. I'm sure the cabbie has heard it all, but I still feel self-conscious.

Then he says, "Say, listen, Folks," and I expect him to comment on the situation. But he says, "I got a call in for a potential passenger, a couple blocks away. And they're going to the same train station. Do you mind?"

"Can we split the fare?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, sure, but be generous with the tip."

"I love New York," I murmur, and Sam takes my hand and squeezes it.

She and I need to talk things out more, but I guess it can wait for the train.

When the cab pulls over, she looks out the window and says, "I don't believe this!" She lets go of my hand.

"Wow, we're running into all your exes tonight, aren't we?" I tease.

The guy in the leather jacket gets in and says, "Yo, Sam! Jonathan! What are you two doin' in New York?"

"Long story. Since when do you take cabs, Al?"

"Since I started dating a babe with deep pockets."  
"And how is Charlie?"

"Great in the sack but a real bitch sometimes."

"I meant her health and general emotional state."

He shrugs. "Who can tell with chicks? Am I right or am I right, Jonathan?"

"Um, you're right."

"So you guys are doin' it, huh?"

We stare at him.

"Who told you?" Sam asks, and she probably figures Charlie broke her promise of secrecy.

"Was it Ernie?"  
"Hey, come on, I don't have to rely on a water man for gossip. I run the finest beauty salon in Fairfield. Broads are always talkin' about somethin'. I try not to listen, but when they start whispering about 'that Micelli girl' and 'that Bower boy,' well, I can't help tuning in."

I notice they don't call Sam by her married name, but it is harder to pronounce and she is divorced.

"What are they saying?" she asks.

Al shrugs. "All kinds of shit. I don't tell 'em what Charlie told me, that you guys did it a couple times and then decided you couldn't deal with the incest so you backed off for awhile."

"Goddamnit, if Charlie's going to back-stab me, she could at least get the details right!"

"She didn't back-stab you. I brought it up. She loves you like a sister. Well, not like Jonathan does apparently."  
"Al."

"Kiddin'. Jeez, lighten up, Sam. So, Bower, what's your secret? I couldn't get to second base with this chick and I tried for years."  
"Al, we had like two dates!"

"Well, I didn't say I was puttin' concentrated effort into it. But you know, you looked pretty hot in that blonde wig and miniskirt and the peekaboo sweater when you tried to help me get that apartment. Not that you're a dog as a brunette."

"How did you resist all this sweet talk?" I ask Sam.

"It's amazing, isn't it?"

"Hey, no hard feelings, Kid. I wish you both lots of luck. You're sure as hell gonna need it."

Sam and I look at each other and we're both thinking, _That's probably the smartest thing Al has ever said._


	27. Voucher

"So what do you think Hank will do?"

"Well, Fran says—"

"Would you two mind not discussing this on line?"

"Can we hurry? I really have to pee."

"Will you all shut up!"

Everyone looks at me.

I shake my head. "We are going to have a nice, quiet family night at the movies, if I have to strangle you all."

All four pairs of brown eyes roll. Probably Val would roll her little brown eyes if she were here, but Bonnie's watching her so that Sam could go out.

I step up to the ticket counter and present my voucher. "Five tickets for _Shoedunnit_ please." Norman did invite me to the Hollywood premiere, but I didn't want to be obligated to try to console him over this bomb. I may've been his executive assistant, but I'm no yes-woman. (Well, not in that sense.) So he sent me the voucher, which can be redeemed at any participating theater. He did ask, "Do you want me to make it good for up to seven people? So Samantha and Jonathan can bring dates?" I told him that that wouldn't be necessary.

I get the tickets and we go in. Angela races to the ladies' room. She's always had a small bladder (which was such fun for me as a 19-year-old mother), and of course it's worse now that she's in the fourth month of pregnancy. Tony and I get the refreshments, while the kids go find us all seats. I don't think it'll be too crowded, not on a Wednesday night, and not for a movie that's gotten terrible reviews and almost no buzz. I mean, really, who wants to see a movie about a series of murders in a shoe store, starring a bunch of nobodies? I'm only going because I figure it might be good for a couple laughs. And I'm dragging the family along so I won't have to suffer alone. (I'm too fond of Walter to make him suffer. Well, not that I'm not fond of my family, but they're stuck with me.)

Tony knows everyone's snack and beverage preferences. It's a carryover from his housekeeper days, although I think that's just how his mind works anyway. He of course knows to get extra chocolate for Angela, whose cravings have kicked in now that she's in the second trimester. (Or maybe she just wants an excuse to eat chocolate. And who can blame her?)

There's no one else in that theater, so we easily find Sam and Jonathan, who are leaning towards each other and whispering.

"OK, that's enough of that! Mona, you go sit between them."

"Dad!"  
"Tony, we're just talking."

"I don't want to be the chaperone, Tone!"

"You want me to do it?"

"No!" both kids exclaim.

I roll my eyes, but Tony isn't budging. So Jonathan budges over two seats to the left. I squeeze in next to Sam, setting the popcorn etc. in the empty seat next to Jonathan.

"That's better," Tony says.

"And where are you sitting, Dad?"

"In the row behind you."  
"Of course," Jonathan mutters.

"Don't kick the back of my seat."  
"Very funny, Mona."

"Oh, there you all are."  
"Angela, where the hell did you disappear to?"

"I'm sorry, Tony, I forgot the title and I thought it was _Clueless_."

"Too easy," I say, and Sam laughs.

Jonathan says, "With this turkey, they probably would've called it _Clueless and Shoeless_."

"Sam," Angela says, leaning over her seat, " _Clueless_ looks really cute and funny, and it's getting great reviews. And it's based on Jane Austen! We should go see it."

"Uh, yeah, sure. You wanna go now?"

"Hey, Jonathan, you wanna see _First Knight_?" Tony suggests.

"Sean Connery and swords? Yeah, OK."  
"Hold it! None of you are going anywhere."

They all grumble but settle back into their seats. I suddenly remember going to the movies as a little girl before The War, with my brothers and little sister. Kids got in for a dime each, but Barbara was so young she was free. And that was for a double feature, with newsreels and cartoons. Now we just get a bunch of coming attractions trailers.

Ugh, I sound like one of those "back in my day" old fogies that I swore I'd never become.

"So what did Fran say?" I whisper.

"I'll tell you later," Sam whispers back.

Here's what I know so far. Hank saw her kissing Jonathan in New York. Not surprisingly, he didn't take it well. And then on Tuesday, his custody day, he sent his mother to pick up and return Val. Sam told me and Angela on the train that she was half afraid that Hank wouldn't give Val back. Even if Hank doesn't kidnap Val, he might sue for full custody, claiming that Sam is a bad mother for being romantically involved with her stepbrother. And it's not as if Joanne Parker among others would mind testifying against Sam.

Angela is worried and has again offered to loan Sam her lawyer, as she did for the divorce. I'm hoping Hank is just surprised and jealous and he'll get over it. After all, does he really want to take on a baby full-time? Yes, his girlfriend loves kids, but they both work. Someone's going to have to look after Val, and it might end up being Fran. And Fran still likes Sam, considers her like a daughter, so she's probably caught in the middle.

I wonder what Fran said to Sam when she brought Val home. I get the impression that Hank doesn't want to speak to Sam right now, although it sounds like he had lots of questions for her at Battery Park.

Jonathan asked me if he should stop seeing Sam. I said that the damage was done. It's the fact that Sam has dated him that matters and it can't be undone. Hank already sees her as immoral. "Plus, he's probably feeling a little threatened that Sam immediately replaced him with a younger man."

Jonathan shook his head. "Sure, Grandma. Hank is so elderly."

Well, if I know men, and I do, Jonathan being still in his teens does make it worse. And he is, I hate to say it, not as good-looking as Hank, which also makes it worse. Hank's got to be wondering, as Al apparently was, what "Bower's" secret appeal is. I do know that the sex was great (both kids admitted it), but I don't think that's the only thing going on here, especially since it's been almost a year since they had sex.

I did ask Sam about that recently, and she said that she's been thinking about it but she's still tired from babycare and she'd like to wait till things quiet down anyway.

"If Tony and Angela had waited till things quieted down, they never would've gotten together."

"Well, now we know why they took so long."

We both laughed.

The movie starts and I try to stop thinking about all the real-life drama. I saw some dailies last summer, but they shot scenes all out of order, and sometimes reshot them. I wonder if the movie will make much more sense now.

"It reminds me of _The Big Sleep,_ " I hear Tony say to Angela after half an hour.  
"Um, in what way?"

"I can't follow the plot at all. Except you know, _The Big Sleep_ has Bogie and Bacall, so who cares?"

She laughs.

Jonathan leans over at one point and asks, "Is this the nightmare sequence Lisa was working on?"

"Yep, that's Whatshername's puppetry," I say. They've jazzed up the attacking shoes with some CGI, but it still is an unholy mess. It's not entirely her fault. I think she did the best she could under the circumstances. And presumably it hasn't hurt her career, since she found work in New York.

The only good things in the movie are two uncredited cameos by comedians: Bill Murray, who plays a man with a foot fetish, and Janeane Garofalo, who according to Sam is always as sarcastic as she is here as the estranged daughter of one victim.

"Can we go now?" Jonathan whines at the end, like he's five.

"Hold on. We have to read the credits."

He sighs and sits back down.

It takes awhile and then I read _"Special thanks to Mona Robertson."_

"Robertson!?" I jump to my feet and shake my fist at the screen. "I'll sue the bastards!"

"I just want those 90 minutes of my life back," Sam grumbles.

I turn to look at Tony and Angela to say we can go, and then I notice that they've moved to the back of the theater and are necking quietly.

"Hey, get a room, you two!" Sam calls.

Jonathan says, "No wonder Fran says Hank thinks this family is unfit for his daughter."

I shake my head. "I can't take you people anywhere."

Angela blushes and then excuses herself to the restroom.


	28. Ultrasound

"Ready?" Dr. Hollis asks.

Tony and I both nod and he squeezes my hand. We've been ready for this moment for a long time. We're going to see our baby today!

I've been thinking about the ultrasound all summer but Dr. Hollis and I agreed that we'd wait till the mid-point, what used to be called quickening. I even felt a kick yesterday! Four and a half months gone, four and a half to go.

As our baby appears on the screen, I glance at Tony and see tears in his eyes. I squeeze his hand and he smiles at me.

"Hm, that's interesting."  
"What's interesting? Doctor, that is not a good word to use!"

I know her much better than Tony does of course. "I think that was a good 'interesting,' wasn't it?"

"Well, I hope you'll think so."  
"Doctor, what's going on with our baby?"

"You mean your babies." She smiles.

"Twins?" Tony whispers.

"Yes, see there. And there."

"Twins," I breathe, stunned. I remember six years ago when I found out that Tony always wanted twins, and then (though he doesn't know this of course, because I couldn't tell him at the time or for a long while after) I had a dream that we had little twins, and I was pregnant with our fifth child, while Sam and Jonathan (he with slicked back black hair) belonged to both of us.

Now Tony really starts crying, but very happy tears. I think he would shout and dance if we weren't in a doctor's office.

I don't know what I'm feeling. I'm happy for Tony, but I don't know if I would want twins otherwise. Don't get me wrong, it's lovely to think of having an "extra" child with the man I love. But it's also more responsibility.

They both look at me.

"Do you two want a moment alone?"

"Yeah, but can you leave the TV on?" he asks.

She nods although it's not technically a television. "Of course." She steps out of the room.

I watch the blurry black and white images dance, like some low-budget psychedelic film they'd show on campus when I was in college. (I preferred when it was classics or foreign films.)

"Baby? You OK?"

"Yes. I'm just—surprised."

"Well, yeah, me, too. But it's a happy surprise. Except, you don't look too happy."  
"I'm not unhappy."  
"Angela?"  
"I guess it's just strange to think of having two babies inside me. And to think about two new babies in our lives. When we've already got Val."  
"Yeah, it'll be like raising triplets."

I laugh. "Yes."

He looks more closely at the screen. "What do you think? Is one of them a boy? That one?"

"I think that's a hand."

"Oh."

"This is real," I murmur.

"Huh?"  
"I mean, even with all the symptoms of pregnancy, it hasn't quite seemed real to me somehow."

He nods. "Yeah. I mean, for years we kind of talked our way around the fact that we wanted a child together. And now we see the two children that we'll have together. I mean, not that Sam and Jonathan aren't, but you know."  
"Yes. Sam also belonged to Marie. Jonathan also belongs to Michael."  
"Right. Those two, swimming around in there, they're half mine and half yours, genetically."

"Yes."  
"God, I can't wait to meet them!"

I smile.

Then he startles me by putting his head on my stomach, apparently not worried about getting the gel in his hair. "Hey, Babies, it's Papa," he says. "You be good to your mama, OK? She's putting in overtime to help you grow, and we know what an overachiever she is. You're not quadruplets, are you?"

I laugh. "Oh, Tony." I stroke his hair, despite the gel.

Dr. Hollis knocks. "Can I come back in?"

Tony raises his head and quickly gets back into his chair.

"Yes, come in," I say.

Dr. Hollis reenters, looks at us, and smiles. "Do you want to know the sexes?"

"Yeah!" Tony says enthusiastically.

"Angela?"

"Tony, you won't be disappointed if they're both girls, will you?"

"Maybe a teeny bit, but the main thing is I'm getting two babies with you. And I'm sure they'll be just as beautiful as their mommy."

He is really getting corny now, but I love it. I look at Dr. Hollis, who's trying to not to beam. (And this is not a woman who often beams.) I nod.

She continues the exam and after awhile she says, "That one? That's a boy!"

"A boy!" Tony looks like he's going to leap six feet off the ground. I believe that he would of course adore another daughter or two, but I know that he is still an old-fashioned Italian man in some ways, and the idea of finally having a Tony, Jr. is very appealing to him.

As for me? I think of what an adorable little boy Jonathan was. This son may be darker of complexion or hair, but he will be just as adorable.

"And that one?" I ask.

"Hm. That one is shy."

"Like her mama," Tony teases gently.

I wonder if he likes the idea of a boy and a girl. That's how he spoke of the twins he wanted with Marie, a Sammy to go with his Samantha. And we're used to a boy and a girl, with our blended family. The symmetry is appealing, but it's not like I've really processed this enough to have an opinion. Yes, Tony joked about us having twins, but now it's real.

"His mama."

"Two boys?" Tony and I both exclaim, he in amazement, I in shock.

And then Tony starts whistling the _My Three Sons_ theme. I shake my head.

"Do you need another private moment?" Dr. Hollis asks.

"No, that's all right." I need weeks to process this. Luckily, I have weeks. Almost twenty of them.

"Can you show me on the screen?" Tony asks.

I blush. "Tony!"

"What?"

I shake my head. "Never mind."

And so my obstetrician shows my husband our sons' penises.

"Wow!"

I'm going to have two Tony, Jrs. Or two half-Italian versions of Jonathan. Or two boys who are their own little selves. "Wow!" I echo.

Dr. Hollis goes on to report that as near as she can tell, the babies and I are healthy, although she'd like to do amniocentesis next time, if that's all right with me.

"Yes, of course."  
"It is risky."

"Angela, maybe you shouldn't."

"You two can discuss it and let me know. Meanwhile, after we finish up in here, I'd like to meet with you in the consulting room to discuss things."  
"Things?" Tony says, sounding worried.

"Tony, I'm 45 and going to have twins. I'm sure that makes a difference."

"It does. But there's no cause for concern if you take proper care of yourself."

"I'll make sure she does!"

Dr. Hollis smiles. She's probably used to protective husbands, although probably not many like Tony.

It's not till I'm back in my street clothes and sitting next to Tony across her desk that Dr. Hollis says, "I'm going to recommend bed rest."

"Bed rest?"

"Yes. I was considering it before, but particularly with twins at, well."

"At my age?"

"Yes."

"How strict bed rest? Do I need to carry her up and downstairs?"

"Good thing you know the fireman's lift," I say dryly, trying to imagine him lugging me around the house, particularly when my pregnancy is more advanced.

"Well, actually, you have your own private bathroom off of your bedroom, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then if Tony doesn't mind taking food upstairs, I recommend that you just stay on the second floor."

"Well, a tray is gonna be a lot lighter than Angela. No offense."

"Wait, you want me to be imprisoned in my house? On one floor of my house?"

"Don't think of it as an imprisonment. Think of it as a vacation."

"Uh oh." Tony knows that that was not the right way to put it. "This lady is a workaholic, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. But your babies are a project that has to be put first."

"How am I supposed to run a company out of my bedroom?"

"Doesn't your mother work for you? Haven't you learned how to delegate to her and your other employees after nine years?"

"Are these rhetorical questions?" Tony asks.

"Angela, I know this is going to be difficult for you. But your health and your babies' health depend on it."

"All right," I say quietly. I guess this isn't something I can really argue about.

"Wait a minute, Doctor, are you saying Angela could—could die?" The last words are a faint whisper.

"Not if she takes care of herself."

"Oh God! I didn't realize!"

I look at him and think of how he lost Marie. "It's OK, Tony, it's going to be OK."

"Why are you comforting me?"

"Because I love you."  
"But this is your life, Baby!"

"I don't think I'm going to die. Or the babies either. I'll do whatever I have to do to keep them. But you're going to have to carry up a television and some sort of small desk for me, so I don't go too crazy."  
"Of course, Sweetheart, whatever you want! I'll carry up an elephant if you want!"

"No, I don't want you to strain your back."

He laughs and kisses me, even though he's still crying.

"You two really are adorable, you know that?"

We blush and separate, although our hands join and squeeze.

"I care about as well as care for all of my patients, but I really do want you two to have two adorable, healthy children. Well, in addition to the two you already have."

Tony swallows. "Thanks, Doc. Listen, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."  
"Is Jonathan Val's real father?"

"Tony!" I scold. "You're as bad as Hank!"

"Normally, I would not violate patient confidentiality, but in order to ease a father's mind..."

"An overprotective Italian father's mind," I mutter.

"On the day that I told Sam she was pregnant, Jonathan was pretty clearly a virgin."

"Oh, well, that's some comfort I guess."

"Yes," I say softly. It is. I was sure he wasn't Val's father, but the kids did lie to us and it's good to know that as of, whenever that appointment was, the "fling" hadn't yet begun.

"I know that that situation is very difficult for you, but I hope you're not letting it overshadow this pregnancy."

Tony and I look at each other. We are and we aren't.

Then I look at Dr. Hollis and ask, "So how strict is the bed rest? Do I have to stay in bed all the time, most of the time, or some of the time?"

"I would say for now, the rest of your fifth month, you should be preparing to take time off from work, wrapping things up, delegating. You can still go about your daily routine but begin to ease up. As your pregnancy progresses, you will need to spend more time at least in your room, in bed as much as possible."

"Uh, Doc, speaking of bed."

I blush. Tony has August off from teaching, and he's more amorous than he's been since Spring Break. Yes, he's still bothered by the kids, but since they don't seem to be having sex currently, that has helped our sex life.

"I would say for now you can continue to have intercourse, as long as it's not too, well—"

"Mona-like?"

"I was going to say acrobatic, but yes." My mother's reputation is widespread.  
"The basics are OK?"

"The basics are fine."

I blush redder.

"You may need to abstain during the last trimester."

"Oh." I look at Tony, healthy Italian male that he is. That's not going to be easy for him. He swallows. "But I wouldn't want to do anything to harm Angela. Or our twins."

"Of course. Angela, when you see the receptionist to make the next appointment, she can give you a brochure about bed rest, but please call me if you have any questions."

I nod.

On the way to the car, Tony asks, "So what do you want to do to celebrate?"

"I feel like getting drunk."

"An-gel-a!" He's aghast.

"But I'll settle for a chocolate sundae."

He grins. "Well, you are eating for three."


	29. Chicken Soup

Dad and I take a quick walk during Angela's amniocentesis. We both wanted to be here to support her, but on the other hand we're both afraid of needles. So this is the compromise.

It's a beautiful August morning, not too hot yet. Good walking weather. I've got Val in the stroller, so Dad of course offers to push, and I let him of course.

He didn't want Angela to get the amniocentesis because of the risks, but she convinced him that it was best to know if either of the twins have abnormalities. The risk of that is greater since she's in her 40s. So he gave in, but he's very worried.

"She'll be OK. All three of them will." I'm hoping to convince myself. I want to be happy about this, that I'm getting two little brothers in a few months, baby uncles for Val.

"I hope so. She's being really brave about all this. The waiting and everything is driving me crazy!" It'll take two weeks before the results are ready.

"I know, Dad. But Angela is stronger than she looks."

"And I'm weaker than I look?"

"You're pretty strong, too."

"Thanks. She did cry the other night."  
"Oh, poor Angela!"

"I asked why and she said it's because she realized that the last new movie she'll see this year is Norman's turkey."

I laugh. "I'll treat her to _Clueless_ this weekend." I've been meaning to for awhile, but it's hard to find the time for either of us, especially with her trying to settle things up at the agency.  
"Thanks, Sam. You're a good daughter."  
"I try."

"So, uh, what's happening with Hank?"

I sigh. "His mother says that he's promised not to sue for custody of Val if I stop seeing Jonathan. He'll 'forgive my past.' "

"What a—" Dad looks down at Val and realizes he shouldn't call her father an ugly name in front of her. "Hypocrite."

"Dad, you're the one who first accused me and Jonathan of committing incest."

"Well, I've mellowed a little on that. I still don't like that you lied about it, but you kids have been great this summer, very mature. And, well." He sighs. "I think you've been good for each other, which I haven't really been able to say of any guy you've dated since maybe Jesse."

"Yes, Jesse raised my political consciousness from vapid consumerism."

"You weren't that bad. Just a teenager."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. So what does Jonathan think of Hank's offer?"

"He said he'd break up with me if it would help. But why should I give Hank that kind of power over us?"

"Yeah," he says quietly. And I know part of him wishes I'd break up with Jonathan, but another part has the Micelli pride and is glad I have it, too.

"Anyway, maybe it's selfish, but I think Val is better off with me and my wonderful family than she'd be with Hank and Lisa."  
"It's not selfish. Hank wasn't the one there through your pregnancy, and he's hardly around her now. And you're a good mom, Sam."  
"Hey, I learned from the best."

He smiles and we hug. Then we head back to the doctor's office.

Angela is waiting in the waiting room. Dad runs to her and gives her a big but careful hug. "Are you OK, Sweetheart?"

"Yes, Tony, I'm fine. It wasn't painful, just uncomfortable."

"Good, good. Let's get you home so you can rest."

Angela meets my eyes and we try not to laugh. I think of how she felt smothered by his attention when they were first dating. She even had a nightmare about it! I know from experience how Dad has trouble not being overprotective, and now of course he has an excuse. She's told me that she hopes he won't do every little thing for her when she has to do bed rest.

I can just see them, Angela barking orders into the phone, running her agency out of her room, while Dad tries to simultaneously feed her chicken soup and give her a pedicure. I again try not to laugh.

We go home and Dad puts his arm around her shoulders as he escorts her upstairs for a nap. I shake my head. Then I cut through the kitchen on the way to my apartment. Jonathan's making a late breakfast or an early lunch. We smile at each other.  
"Hey."  
"Hey. How did it go?"

"OK, I guess. I think Dad's more shook up than Angela."

"Yeah, it's all he's been talking about for days."

"Oh." I forget sometimes that Jonathan hangs out with Dad here on Jonathan's days off, since Dad has the whole month off. They're more relaxed around each other than they were in May. Dad even lets Jonathan help him with the housework. (Jonathan is great with laundry in particular. I used to push chores onto him the few times that Dad and Angela were both busy or gone and expected us and Mona to pick up the slack. Yeah, I was a mean "big sister," but I was only following Mona's example.)

"I hope the results come in before I leave for New Haven."

"Yeah," I say quietly. Yale accepted him for transfer. No more MIT. So he won't have to face Susan and their friends. And he'll be less than half an hour away. But he will be away.

"Hey, don't frown about it. We're still going to see each other. Maybe you can visit me, get out of Fairfield."

We're both thinking _Get away from the gossip._ I mean, even Diane Wilmington treats me like I'm a slut! Even though I haven't done more than neck in over a year.

"That would be nice."

"Of course, I'll be in the dorms, and whether I can have you stay overnight will depend on my roommate, whoever that is."

"Oh, Jonathan, I don't know if I'm ready for overnight."

"We can just cuddle."

Any other guy, I'd know that was a line. But with Jonathan, he probably means it.

"Well, thank you. But also, I'd have to leave Val overnight, and I'm not ready for that."  
"I guess you can't bring her with you, can you?"

"Not unless you want people thinking she's your kid."  
"Hm, yeah. I could have a secret wife and child. I bet most of the juniors can't say that!"

I shake my head. I think there might be rumors that Jonathan is Val's father. After all, he did return last summer just a week after Val was conceived, since he wanted to be at my graduation party. And that's close enough timing for gossip. I think she looks 100% Mediterranean, but those are probably dominant genes over blond WASP. If Jonathan and I had a kid—

Oh my God, what am I thinking? I can't have a kid with Jonathan, ever! Dad can barely stomach the two of us dating. Of course, it might be different in five years, if we're still together. I'd be 28 and Jonathan would be 24, not so bad an age gap then, and we could live somewhere where no one knows we're related by marriage. No, no, this is crazy!

"I'm just joking, Sam. You don't have to look so upset."

I shake my head.

"Is it Hank? Look, I told you, we can just drop this if it's getting to be too much for you."

"No, we are not dropping it!" I defiantly throw my arms around him and pull his head down for a huge kiss. He's as startled as when I first kissed him, but this time he definitely responds.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Dad says a minute later.

We break apart, like when Hank caught us last month.

"What the hell are you doing, doing that here? And in front of Val!"

"Dad, she's napping. I don't think we're corrupting her."

"I'm sorry, Tony, it won't happen again."  
I look at Jonathan. Why is he apologizing? I started this.

"It better not. You two have a whole apartment to do that in. You don't have to do it in my kitchen."

I look at Dad. In an odd sort of way, I feel like he's given us his blessing more than he has before. He doesn't want us making out in front of him, but I guess he's OK with it if he doesn't see it.

"Jonathan, do you want to come over?"

"Well, yeah, you need someone to help you get the stroller up the stairs, right?"

"Right."

"See you two later," Dad says, as he moves Jonathan's frying eggs out of the way and starts making homemade chicken soup.

"Bye, Dad," we both say, and he rolls his eyes.

"Jonathan, you don't get to call me 'Dad' till you marry her. That was the rule I had for Hank."

Now I roll my eyes. For one thing, Hank was so scared of Dad that it was hard to get him to switch from "Mr. Micelli" to "Tony." But I know that this is one of Dad's jokes to deal with an awkward situation.

"Sure thing, Pop," Jonathan says and punches his shoulder, then we escape, giggling and carrying Val and the stroller, out the back door.


	30. Last for Awhile

I light the candles and put Sinatra on low. I want everything to be perfect tonight. Angela and I have agreed that this will be our last romantic night for awhile.

Ever since her ultrasound, I've been very cautious making love with her. With Marie, well, we continued enthusiastically till pretty late in her pregnancy. We were both very young and healthy then.

Anyway, Jonathan's gone off to Yale and Mona has an overnight date. So even though it's early in the sixth month, we decided we'd do it "one last time." I know, I know, we can start again a month or two after she has the twins, but we'll both probably be too exhausted then.

I'm doing the Fall quarter. I considered dropping my classes, to stay home and take care of Angela all the time, but Mona said, "She'll strangle you if you do." I looked at Angela and she nodded. Anyway, Sam has promised to look in on Angela every weekday (except Tuesday) while I'm at Ridgemont. She'll bring over Val and hang out here. They'll watch movies upstairs and play cards or whatever. Talk of course.

Angela is mostly staying in bed so far. She comes down for meals, or to talk to people, although we're keeping visitors to a minimum. When Wendy Wittener wanted to gossip with her, I had to send Wendy home so that she wouldn't upset Angela. Even though Wendy is a friend, I don't want Angela to have to deal with the rumors about the kids more than necessary. Maybe I'm being overprotective, but it's my job. When Angela objects, I remind her that I do not want to lose her or the babies.

In fact, I would keep Sam away if I didn't know that that would make both women miserable. Despite Sam's involvement with Angela's son, the two women I love most in the world still love each other. They take strength from being around each other. I couldn't have imagined this eleven years ago, but then I didn't picture either of them with babies then.

Angela is going to miss Jonathan. So am I. So is everybody. But no one was crying this year. There were no goodbyes at the airport. He just loaded up his Civic and left. He'll be back, maybe this weekend. Maybe things will quiet down, maybe.

"Oh, Tony, everything looks just lovely!"

I turn to see Angela slowly entering the living room from upstairs. "Yeah," I breathe. She looks so beautiful, yes, even five months and a few days pregnant. The glow may be from her condition, but I've seen it before, like in Italy. Her hair is up and her neck is still slender. Her gown looks like something from the late '60s, with a high waist and a long, flowing skirt. Royal blue.

I go to her and guide her to her chair at the little table by the fireplace. I think of other dinners for two in this living room: the unexpected catered dinner, when we thought her date had stood her up; the one she made to celebrate the second anniversary of when Sam and I moved in; and of course the one I made the evening after I confessed my love. I never thought we'd get to this point, after all we went through. And, yes, I hope that things go much more smoothly than at those dinners.

I toast her with grape juice. Dr. Hollis said wine is fine, but I'm not taking any chances. "To my beautiful, brilliant wife."

"To my gorgeous, attentive husband," she teases.

"Hey, you like some of my attentions."

She blushes a little in the candlelight. "Yes, I do."

"Should we toast to the kids?"

She nods. "To our daughter Samantha, to our son Jonathan, and to our Christmas babies, Nicholas and Rudolph."

I shake my head. She's been joking that we have to give the boys seasonal names. Noel is one. Also, every reindeer name, except Vixen. (I said that should've been Mona's name.)

We don't know for sure that the babies will be born on or around Christmas, but it does seem likely. That was another reason everyone insisted I teach Fall classes. She probably won't have the twins till after finals. I'll take off the Winter and maybe the Spring if it seems best, but I can do this Fall.

Angela isn't sure how long she wants to make her maternity leave. As her own boss, she can of course take as long as she wants. But I don't know how long we can keep her away from the agency once it's no longer for her health. She already misses it, and she calls several times a day, more than she needs to.

I made six kinds of pasta for her, so she wouldn't have to choose. She clears her plate, three times. She apologizes at first, but I shake my head. I like that she's eating hearty. Whenever Mona makes a remark about Angela's weight, I just glare at her. As Mrs. Rossini said, "This is no time for Angela to be skinny."

We told her, everything. Well, she would've found out anyway, especially since Al knows. She knows that Angela is pregnant with twins, and she's thrilled. She's knitting booties and whatever else she can think of.

And she knows about Jonathan and Sam dating. She's concerned but she told me, "Listen, he's a good boy and he treats her right. OK, so he's not Italian, but no one's perfect." That made me laugh. The stepbrother thing does bother her, but she said that she's heard of stranger relationships, and then proceeded to tell me a half dozen of them, mostly from the Old Country.

When we're done eating, I wish I could take Angela in my arms and carry her upstairs, but that's harder than it used to be of course. But I do have her lean on me as we head up the stairs.

I see that she's lit the fireplace in the bedroom and I smile. Joe added it when he remodeled the room, back when Sam and Hank were newlyweds and Angela and I still planned to marry that May. I haven't talked to Joe in a very long time.

I have talked to Fran a couple times. She's really torn up about this all, poor woman.

"I don't agree with everything Hank has done, but he's my child."  
"I know, I know," I said quietly. That's how I feel about Sam of course.

Sometimes I worry that this will all get to be too much for Sam and she'll run off with Val, like my friend Kelly did with her little daughter Melissa. What if Hank does win full custody? How desperately would Sam fight to keep her?

"Tony, what's wrong?"

"A lot on my mind."

She lightly kisses me. "I know. Me, too."

I remind myself that I need to savor this night. We've agreed that it'll be the last I'll spend in here for awhile. It would get too frustrating for both of us, to be in bed together night after night and unable to do anything. I'm going to move back to my old room, which has been sitting empty for three years. Since I left for Iowa.

I remember all those nights, from the very first one onward, when I'd lie in that bed, thinking of her down the hallway. That first night, well, she'd called me Honey, but she thought it was Jonathan at the door. I apologized for threatening her boyfriend, her boss Grant. We made up, sort of, and then I had to go and say, "You'd never catch me doing something dumb like sleeping with my employer!" And I never did, much as I wanted to, sometimes very much wanted to. I waited till I was no longer her housekeeper, till I had a good job in Iowa.

Yeah, I'd said in Jamaica that we should wait till we were married, but we were so close at that point, and we were alone all the time, for the first time, with no kids, no Mona. And for Angela, not many distractions. I thought we'd be married soon, but there was one more major detour on our blind-nun-driven journey.

It won't be easy to lie alone in my room, knowing that the beautiful blonde down the hallway is now my wife. But it'll be easier than sleeping next to her, listening to her breathe, smelling her personal scent, feeling her soft skin brush against me.

We undress each other slowly, pausing for kisses and caresses. When she's naked, I desire her as much as ever, but I also feel more tender, now that she's carrying our sons.

God, our sons! I wish Pop were alive to see them. To know that I'm carrying on the Micelli name. (Yes, Sam uses her maiden name most of the time, but that's not exactly the same thing.) And I just wish he could be their grandpa, like he was for Sam when she was little.

Having said that, if Dr. Hollis asked me, "Should we save your wife or your babies?", I would unhesitatingly choose Angela. I cannot imagine my life without her. I'd almost feel like I would have no life. Which is not to say that my job and the kids and Mona and my friends don't matter. But it would be like the heart was taken out of me.

Angela and I kept saying for years, since our "first" kiss (the drunken one in the kitchen) that we wouldn't want to lose each other as friends. But after awhile I just simply didn't want to lose her at all. I've never loved anyone like this before, not even Marie, God rest her soul.

Angela kisses me and moves one of my hands onto her breasts. They're fuller than usual of course, not that I ever really minded them being small, even when I'd join in on Mona's teasing. There's something elegant about Angela's figure as it normally is, although now of course it's more "earth motherly." My other hand caresses her rounded stomach.

"It's OK to have mixed feelings," Angela whispers.

I think I know what she means. It's not that I'm ambivalent. It's that I'm feeling a bunch of things at once. Some are in conflict, but some of this is just the complexity of life.

I kiss her cheek and then her neck, till she shivers. Then I move one hand between her legs, pleasuring her, till she greedily grabs me. I stiffen in her strong but delicate hands.

"Let's do it as spoons," I say. That way I won't feel like I'm crushing her stomach.

She nods and turns her back to me, that sexy back that she would reveal in a variety of dresses, even before she was comfortable exposing her legs. And that cute little tush, now fuller in my hands. I pinch it.

"Tony," she mildly scolds.

I kiss her nape and cup her breasts. And then when she's ready, I enter her doggy-style, but slowly, carefully.

"I love you, Tony."

"Tu sei la mia vita, Mia Angela!"

We make love slowly, dreamily. I think of all the times I've been in her before, although, yeah, there are so many they've blurred. I remind myself that I will be in her again after tonight. It's just another pause, like after she left me in Iowa.

She runs her warm toes along my legs, so I pull her hair a little. "Angela, you know that drives me crazy!"

"Pulling my hair won't get me to stop."

"I don't want to hurt you!"

"I'll let you know if I don't like it."

And then she begins thrusting vigorously back against me and I respond in the only way I can, taking her again and again, giving to her again and again, so fast, so hard. And she cries out, but in pure pleasure.

She bathes me in her orgasm and I come so intensely that I think of a French phrase: "la petite mort," the little death. A funny term for the thing that makes me feel most alive, but the French are strange. (In Italian, we say "orgasmo." We're more literal.)

Afterwards, I hold Angela tenderly, my hands gently stroking her stomach and her breasts, and I kiss her hair, her neck, her cheek. "I'm gonna miss you, Baby."

"I'll be just down the hall," she whispers.

"So close and yet so far."

She laughs and then sighs wistfully.


	31. Red on Yellow

I look up from reading _Red on Yellow Will Kill a Fellow: The Coral Snake, Friend or Foe?_ when the phone rings. My roommate, Kyle, is out on a date, so I answer it. I hope it's for me. I hope it's Sam.

"Hello?"

"Jonathan, what the hell is going on?"

"Oh, hi, Dad." I've been wondering when he'd find out about everything.

"That's all you can say? 'Oh, hi, Dad'?"

"Well, maybe if you could tell me a little more about why you're calling."

"I'm calling because some New York lawyer called me to find out the truth about your relationship with Samantha Micelli."

"Why would they call you? You don't know what's going on in my life." I bite my tongue after that. It's true, but I shouldn't have said it.

"Apparently not. And is it true your mother is pregnant? With twins?"

"Uh, yeah, twin boys."

"Why the hell didn't she tell me any of this when I spoke to her a couple months ago?"

"Well, Dad, I guess you pissed her off too much."

"I pissed her off?"

"Well, anyway, Dad, yes, I'm dating Sam, and, yes, we had sex in the past, but it was over a year ago and we've cooled it down."  
"Uh huh. Then why did you switch from MIT to Yale?"

"What's wrong with Yale?"  
"Nothing, but I would like to know what's going on in my son's life."

I almost say, "Since when?" But no point in me pissing him off. Instead I say, "Well, you're always so busy, Dad. You've got your own life in California. I understand that."

"I'm sorry I didn't let you come visit. I can see now why your mother wanted you to."  
"Well, yeah."

"Those Micellis have been nothing but trouble since the day they walked in the front door."

I'm having a lot of trouble restraining myself. No wonder Mom hung up on him! "Tony's been really good to me." I don't say, "Like a father." No need to rub it in.

"And Sam? Jonathan, what the hell are you doing dating a divorced woman with a baby? And that's putting aside the fact that she's your stepsister."

"Sam's a really good person."

"That's no reason to date her! Are you in love with her or something?"

Why does everyone keep asking me that? Like I'm not allowed to date her unless I'm madly in love with her.

"No, we're not in love."

"You're not in love. You've got all of Fairfield talking, and you've got her husband considering claiming custody, and you're putting everyone, including yourselves, through this, for what? Lust?"

"No, it's not lust. And Hank has no grounds for custody. He only sees Val once a week. And he lives with the woman he cheated on Sam with."

"But that woman isn't his stepsister."

"Yeah, whatever." I'm tired of all this. I'm tired of going around and around on this. I just wanted to date Sam, have a nice time with her. Why does everyone have to make such a big deal about it?

"Look, Jonathan, are you going to marry her?"

"Dad, you're crazy!"

"Let me finish. Hank and Whatshername—"

"Lisa."  
"Yeah, they're at least living together. They're a couple and they might get married someday. Sam is single and all she's got is some college kid boyfriend who happens to be her stepbrother. Who do you think the courts are going to say the baby should be with?"

"So you want me to marry Sam?"

"Don't be an idiot! I just don't want these Micellis trapping you into anything when you've got your whole future ahead of you. And by the way, I think it's great that you're studying herpetology."

"Well, thanks. As for the Micellis' 'schemes,' Tony doesn't even want me dating Sam, although he accepts it."

"Uh huh. And what if you get her pregnant?"

"Dad, I told you, we're not even having sex anymore. And if we were, we'd be careful."

"And what if she decides to seduce you again, only this time she pretends she's protected but she's not? Then Tony plays the outraged Italian father and makes you marry Sam."

"Why would they do that?"

"For your mother's money of course!"

"Mom is married to Tony. I don't think they need Sam to seduce me to get a share of the cash."

"Or maybe she just wants to get married again. After all, she's raising a child alone and you know how tough that can be."

I can't take anymore. "Yeah, Dad, I do. And I also know that you tried to get custody of me when you first married Heather and it was only because you two couldn't deal with the reality of vomit—"

"You did ruin our wedding, Jonathan."

"I'm sorry, Dad. But you don't have to come to my wedding." I hang up loudly.

Then I turn and see Kyle and his girlfriend standing there.

"You're getting married?" she asks.

"Long story," I say.

"This is why I never talk to my parents unless I need to borrow money," Kyle says.

I nod. "Good policy."

"Thanks. Uh, Jonathan, could you, uh—?"

"Um, yeah, I need to go to the library." I know the drill by now. I grab my book. "See you later."

"Later," they both say.

I head for the Cushing/Whitney Medical Library. They stay open later than any other library on campus, till midnight. So far Kyle hasn't kicked me out overnight. I don't know what I'll do if he does. Maybe sleep outside, although that's going to be rough when winter comes. Maybe I should rethink living at home.

I know I should stand up to Kyle, but I'm trying not to alienate him in case I ever have to ask him to return the favor. I know, I'm such a wimp, probably Sam and I would both end up sleeping outside. Well, maybe she could stand up to him.

I read for awhile in the comfiest chair I can find, and then I decide to check my e-mail. Not that I ever get much that isn't school-related, but it'll pass the time. I'm very pleasantly surprised when I go to my inbox and find a message from smicelli at harmonynhominy dot com

 _Hey Geek,_

 _Well, you're a bad influence on me. Look at this, I'm doing E-mail! Well, it's not all your fault. My bosses made everybody get it. It makes sense in my case especially, since I'm only there one day a week anyway._

 _And, yes, I can use it for personal messages, as long as I don't write or receive anything too obscene. So watch yourself, Snake-Boy!_

 _The nice thing about it is now we don't have to worry about you finding privacy to talk on the phone. It sounds like your roommate is there all the time. I wonder how we're ever going to be alone if and when, you know._

 _I've been thinking about that. How do you feel about, well, a very special Christmas present? Maybe we could get away on a ski weekend or something. Not right at Christmas, but during the break. Maybe Bonnie or Mona could watch Val._

 _I'm thinking of weaning Val this Fall. I was going to go a whole year or two of nursing, but it really ties me down. If she switched to bottle only, that would free up both me and her. Of course, then her darling father might really go after custody, instead of making all these vague threats._

 _I wouldn't mind letting him have her a couple days a week, but I am not giving her up entirely. No way! I'm the one who carried her inside me, I'm the one who's been feeding her from my body. What has he done? Changed her a couple times when Fran was busy?_

 _Even if we hadn't gotten divorced, I can't imagine him being as involved a parent as Dad was and is. Poor Angela, I think she's kind of glad Fall classes have started, so Dad isn't hovering as much._

 _I look in on her of course, but I give her space, too._

 _I'm sorry my first E-mail message isn't more romantic. It feels weird writing like this. I'd send Matt love letters and then I'd get these postcards back from New Mexico saying, "Hey, Sam, I really miss you, too. Love, Matt." He was sincere, but not terribly articulate. I knew that even at the time. You were right when you said he was dumb as a rock, although looking back I suppose you were jealous._

 _Jonny, I really do miss you, even though it hasn't been that long. I miss seeing you every day, even if it was just at dinner or whatever. It's easy to take you for granted. I think most people do. But things are different without you. Not as much fun._

 _Are you coming home this weekend?_

 _Love (but not like in a big, overdramatic, younger-Sam kind of way),_

 _Sam_

I could think over what to say, but I just write the first thing I think of.

 _Hey Mantha,_

 _Your eyes are like grizzly bears, waiting to devour my soul. Hmm, so you have some geek in you after all. (And want more in you at Christmas.)_

 _Now you'll know if someone's reading your messages. Um, Christmas would be good, but could we make it Thanksgiving? Not to rush things, but I'm just thinking, Mom's due around Christmas, and with our luck she'd go into labor while we're away, and Tony would never forgive us. If we go a month early—maybe sticking around for Thanksgiving itself and still getting a three-day weekend—then Mom will only be late in the eighth month I think, so it should be safe for us to go._

 _I need to talk to you about my dad. We had an awful phone call tonight. I don't want to write it in e-mail. Maybe I will come home this weekend, so we can really talk._

 _And do other things besides talking._

 _XOXO,_

 _Snake-Boy_

I hit Send and then go back to studying, till midnight.


	32. Done with the Dean

"You wanted to see me, Dean Brown?"

"Have a seat, Mr. Micelli."

That's not good. He's been calling me Tony ever since I became a professor at Ridgemont instead of a student. I sit down. I wonder what this is about. As far as I know, my classes are going well. I get along with all my students, I think. OK, I shouldn't be paranoid about this. Maybe it is bad news, but like the death of a colleague, not something I'm to blame for.

"Mr. Micelli, as I understand you married the 'stripper' who danced at the rush party you attended seven years ago."

"Uh, yeah, well, sort of." Why is he bringing this up now? "You see, Angela was my date and when I left the room, some of the guys gave her some spiked punch. She's not used to drinking and it hit her pretty hard. Uh, which is why she danced—not stripped—and why she, um, flirted with you. But all charges were dropped, as you'll recall."

"Indeed. Now as I understand it, Mrs. Micelli's son is now college age."

"Yeah, at Yale," I say proudly. Not that I wasn't proud of him when he was at MIT, and not that I wouldn't have been proud of him if he'd attended Ridgemont, like Sam. But come on, Yale? That's pretty impressive.

"Yes. And he is, as I understand it, involved with your daughter."

Oh, shit. So that's what this about!

"Yes, the ki—They're dating."

"Mr. Micelli, I'll be frank with you. Parents entrust their children to us. Yes, those children are legally adults, but that doesn't mean that we are not responsible for providing a good moral environment."

I immediately think of a half dozen examples of my colleagues who are doing things that Dean Brown might think are "immoral." But instead I say, "Dean Brown, I understand that. I'm a concerned father myself. But kids grow up and they do what they're going to do, no matter what you tell them. All you can do is hope for the best."

"That's a rather cavalier attitude, Mr. Micelli. In any case, your presence, as the father of an incestuous graduate of Ridgemont, does not reflect well on our school."

I struggle to control my temper. I imagine Angela's hand on my arm, calming me down. "I'm sorry you feel that way," I say quietly.

"And I'm sorry I have to ask for your resignation."

"What?"

"You've been a good instructor and I'm sorry to lose you, but I think it's for the best. And as your wife is expecting a baby, you could take a leave of absence now without causing unnecessary publicity."

Much as I've wanted to stay home and take care of Angela, I really don't like the idea of being forced out, especially when I've done nothing wrong. Hell, I'm not even sure anymore that the kids have done anything that terrible, other than thinking with their hormones last year.

"Why don't you just fire me? It would be more honest."

He coughs. "Well, I'm afraid that our lawyers don't think there are enough grounds for dismissal. It's a gray area."

"Uh huh."  
"But surely for the good of Ridgemont—"

"I'll take a week off. And then when you realize how much you need me, you can come begging for me to return. And I'll consider it."  
"Mr. Micelli, there is no need for sarcasm."

I get up and lean over the desk. I whisper, "I am 100% sincere, Mr. Brown."  
"Are you threatening me, Sir?"

"Oh, you'd know it if I were threatening you."

I storm out and head to my Jeep. I run into Mason in the parking lot.

"Tony, is it true?"

"True?"

"About Sam and Jonathan?"

"Yeah, they're dating."

"God! I don't believe it!"

"Yeah, I guess it is a surprise."

"Yes, if I thought she was into geeks, I would've made a play for her after her divorce!"

I try not to laugh. "Yeah, well, too late now."

"I was hoping she was going to marry someone handsome and vacuous."

"Well, there's still time for that. And I don't think they're planning to get married." I hope not. Otherwise, the family wouldn't be joking about it.

"So it's just a rebound thing?"

"Could be. It's probably not permanent." I hope.

"Then maybe my fifteen-year plan can still happen."  
"Strangers things have happened."

"Yeah."  
"Say, listen, Mase, can you do me a favor?"

"Of course, Tony. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about Sam and Jonathan."

At this point, I don't know who doesn't know. "Thanks, but I meant can you take over my classes for a week or so? I'm taking a leave of absence."

"Of course! Tell Mrs. Micelli I wish you both the best of luck with your twins."  
"Thanks, Mase. You're a pal."

"Of course, Tony." He gives me a hug. I assume he's not just buttering me up as his potential future father-in-law. Not that I can picture Sam ever seriously dating him. Anyway, Mason has always idolized me, like when I was his pet student.

"I'll call you later with details, OK?"

"About Sam and Jonathan?" He looks horrified.

"No, about my classes."

"Oh, of course."

I consider clearing out my office, but maybe I'll be back. Maybe Dean Brown will back down. And I do want to teach here, at least for the rest of the Fall.

I drive home and want to run upstairs and tell Angela about this. But I don't want to worry her. Could I maybe fake going to work for a week or however long this takes? No, I know how she would react if she found out. But what am I going to say? She's had to go through so much this year. Not that I haven't, but I'm not doing bed rest to prevent a miscarriage.

I'm sitting on the couch, trying to pull myself together, when Sam comes in from the kitchen with Val.

"Dad, what are you doing home?"

I signal her to be quiet and lead her back into the kitchen.

"What's up?"

I tell her as briefly and unaccusatorily as I can.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she says quietly.

I shrug. "Well, everyone has blown this whole thing out of proportion. Maybe me included. I mean, you and Jonathan aren't even having sex anymore, right?"

She looks down.

"Are you?" I can hear how rough my voice sounds, like I've been crying.

"Well, no, but we've been talking about it."

"I see."

"Maybe in November."  
"Why November?"

"Thanksgiving."

"So you two aren't going to be home for Thanksgiving?"

She looks up and laughs. "Everything comes down to food with you, doesn't it, Dad?"

"No, but we do celebrate Thanksgiving together as a family."  
"Jonathan skipped it last year."

"Because he was avoiding you, right?"

She nods. "Probably. Anyway, yes, we'll be here for the dinner, but we'll go away the rest of the weekend."

"I see."

"Dad, I know you don't want to hear about this. But if Jonathan and I, and you and Angela, are being punished for it, why shouldn't he and I just go ahead and do it?"

"That's not much of a reason for going to bed with someone."

She blushes. "We want to anyway. But the reasons against it seem empty now. And we wouldn't be rushing into it."

"That's true," I say quietly.

"Dad, I'm sorry about all this. Really."  
I shake my head. "You two acted on your feelings. Angela and I hardly ever did, and it drove us and everyone around us crazy, for years."

"Yeah, but it didn't get anyone fired."

"I'm not fired. It'll be OK."

She looks skeptical.

I kiss her cheek and then Val's. "You two go home. I'll look after Angela, at least today."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"I'll have to, won't I?"

"Yeah. You will."

...

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart."  
"I'm glad you told me. Well, not glad, but I need to know. I realize you want to protect me, but this concerns our family. It concerns you."

"Yeah."

"Are you going to fight it?"

"In some ways I feel like I should. Not let him push me around. I could probably sue. He admitted that there's no legal ground to dismiss me. But I don't want this family dragged deeper into the mud than we are."

"Yes."

"I don't know. What do you think I should do?"

"Tony, if you take the Fall off, do you promise not to baby me too much?"

"I'll try." That's the most honest answer I can give.

She smiles. "OK. Maybe you can look for another teaching job."  
"Where? The gossip is everywhere in Fairfield."  
"It doesn't necessarily have to be in the area, does it?"

"What? I'm not going to leave you again! Especially not right now."

"I'm not suggesting Iowa. But it could be Rhode Island or New York."  
"Or Massachusetts?"

"Maybe. As long as it's within commuting distance."

She has a point. The gossip is unlikely to travel too far out of Fairfield. As near as I can tell, no one's bothering Jonathan about it in New Haven.

"You were going to take the Winter off, right? And maybe the Spring?"

"Yeah. Maybe I should just stay home till this all blows over." It's unlikely to impact her in Manhattan, so I can't see her staying home with the twins very long. But maybe I could. Maybe I should.

"Let's see how the next few months ago."

I snort. "Yeah, I guess by now we should know better than to plan too far in advance."

"Right." Then she beckons to me.

I wish I could crawl into bed with her, forget everyone else. "Angela, we can't."

"Cuddling's OK. I asked Dr. Hollis."

So we hold each other and our sons kick against my hands.


	33. Thanksgiving Dinner

"Need some more help, Tony?" I offer.

He nods and hands me a tray. "I really wish Angela would let me put in a dumbwaiter."

"Not after the remodeling fiasco almost four years ago."

"It was not a fiasco."  
"Any time I have to share a bed with my bony daughter, it's a fiasco."

He shakes his head. Of course, Angela is not particularly bony now, in her eighth month of pregnancy. And he would love to share a bed with her, but they are trying to be extra careful during her bed rest. He's returned to his old bedroom, and sometimes I feel like time has rolled back. Except when I see Angela's very pregnant stomach of course.

We're having Thanksgiving dinner in the upstairs hallway. We couldn't think of any other way to do this, short of installing an elevator. Angela is pretty much grounded on the second floor. Even going out into the hall will be a big adventure for her, and she had to get Dr. Hollis's permission.

Tony had Jonathan help him carry up the dining room table, and then Sam and I helped with the chairs, including a nice squashy one for Angela. Now Tony and I are taking up the food.

And Sam and Jonathan are packing for their ski trip. I'm going to look after Val for her. I promised. I feel that they've waited long enough to get busy with each other and they're entitled to some fun after all they've gone through. Tony and for that matter Angela are not happy about it, but they accept it.

The kids will leave after dinner, which will be a midday meal rather than an evening one. They're driving up, in Sam's car, to Stowe. They hope to get there before dark.

The doorbell rings.

"I'll get that. It's probably for me."

"Mona, I thought we agreed no one outside the family this year. Not even Mrs. Rossini."  
"I did not invite Mrs. Rossini." The woman has always irritated me. I know she's like an aunt to Tony but I've never liked her.

"Mona."  
"OK, so I invited Walter. But he's practically family. I mean, I was engaged to the man once."

"You're not thinking about getting engaged again, are you?"

"Please, Tony, I'm not the marrying kind."  
"Then he can't have dinner with us."  
"You want me to send away that poor lonely old man, out into the snow?"

"Old? I thought he was only a few years older than you."  
"Well, some people think 30 is old."

He shakes his head. "Yeah, what the hell, let him in. I made plenty."

"Thanks, Tone." I head downstairs and greet Walter. We've been dating for over four months now, which isn't quite a record for me, but it is longer than when we dated before. (In the time between James Earl and Robert.) In a different way than Sam and Jonathan, we've been taking it slow. We've been to bed of course, but we're not even going steady. I wouldn't actually rule out marriage, but there is no hurry. Yes, we're not getting any younger, well, he isn't, but I would like to wait till things at least get a little less crazy around here.

Tony, the whole family in fact, is unaware that I've stopped playing the field. They think that Walter is just one of my beaus, if perhaps the most serious one currently. I still ogle other men, but then Tony still ogles other women and I've never seen a more doting and devoted husband than he is.

This monogamy wasn't intentional. It's just something I drifted into. Maybe it's just a phase. But I'm actually enjoying it, even if it's just the novelty. I will admit it makes scheduling easier, and there are fewer names to keep track of.

Oh, all right, and I really like Walter. He's sweet but not overly sweet. He doesn't mind my sarcasm and can sometimes match it. And he doesn't judge Sam and Jonathan.

He told me, "Listen, I of all people know the funny games that Cupid can play."

He now kisses me warmly. He's an even better kisser than he was in the '40s. We've both had lots of practice, me especially.

"Hey, hey, you kids, behave!"

I turn and smile at Samantha. She's already in her snow-bunny attire to save time. And it is cold out, with occasional flurries.

Val is napping in Billy's room. Now that she's a champion crawler, we can't just leave her unattended in the kitchen or Angela's office.

And, yes, Sam has weaned her. They both went through some separation anxiety, but as Sam says, Micelli women are tough.

"I just wanted to give him something to be thankful for."

She shakes her head but she laughs. Then Val cries and Sam looks at me.  
"Hey, I'm not on duty till you leave."

She sighs and heads up.

I lead Walter into the kitchen so he can help me help Tony carry things upstairs. We get the plates and silverware.

"So I'm not going to see you much this weekend, am I?"

"Not unless you want to help me babysit."

"Sure, why not? I like babies."  
"Well, I hope you're not looking to have more."  
"No, I'm definitely retired from that. I'll wait for Eric to get married and have kids."

"Great-grandparenthood is nice, even at my tender age."

He kisses my cheek. "Yes, you're practically a child yourself."

When we go upstairs, Tony is looking in the direction of Billy's room, watching Sam watching Jonathan bottle-feed Val. Jonathan looks up and blushes at his audience. "Well, she was crying, so I had to do something."

"Of course," I say quietly. I noticed the wistful look on Sam's face, and the worried look on Tony's. I don't think Jonathan has any wish for a baby of his own, but I can see why Tony would be concerned. As for Sam, who knows? She's at a different place in her life than Jonathan is. Perhaps she can imagine a child with Jonathan, although let us hope she's not planning to get one out of this ski trip. (She's assured me, and apparently Angela, that they will be very, very careful. And not just on the slopes.) But down the road? Who knows?

I still can't figure those two out. They swear they're not in love, and I suppose they'd know after six months of dating, not to mention last summer. In some ways, they seem like good friends with an attraction, but not a strong one. I don't know why they're willing to risk the snubs and sneers of this narrow-minded community for true like.

Well, the community isn't entirely narrow-minded. To the family's surprise, Tony's former students at Ridgemont, and some of his colleagues, have rallied around him. He's still mostly taking the Fall off though. He picks up subbing hours, just to make a little money. And to get out of Angela's hair sometimes. He's not making any permanent plans. He's talked to me about maybe being a stay-at-home dad, at least while the twins are little.

Angela has also talked to me about being a stay-at-home parent, although considering how often she calls me at the agency, I can't picture her staying home long. Bed rest has only exacerbated her stir-craziness. (Tony probably also substitutes in order to take a break from Angela.)

And Jonathan has talked to me about maybe helping out at home more once the babies are born. He is taking a more active role with Val, and I don't think he's too happy living on campus at Yale. It's not just Sam's presence that brings him home so often. And he could just commute to New Haven.

Sam, however, is restless. She loves being a mother but it is hard on her being at home with a baby most of the time, even if she has people to help her. She still doesn't want to budge on the custody thing (Hank keeps threatening but hasn't actually done anything legally), but I can't see her wanting to take on much of the babycare of her new brothers.

And Lord knows I don't want to! Oh, I'll look after Val this weekend, and I'll sit for the twins occasionally, but I am not going to do either as a regular thing.

"I'll go get the turkey," Tony says.

"Oh, I'll get her." It's a dated joke, but I can't resist an easy insult of Angela.

I do go and get her from her bed, but I'm gentle as I help her up. I make fun of her weight, because she expects it. She knows that I mean, "I'm glad you're eating well and that Tony is spoiling you and my grandbabies."

I help her to the squashy chair and the others find their seats. Walter holds out my chair and then Jonathan looks self-conscious that he didn't do that for Sam. Even though he had a gentleman for his role model, sometimes he just treats Sam like a pal. And she expects him to. Then other times, he'll surprise her with candy or flowers. This must be confusing for them sometimes, even now.

The food is wonderful of course. Angela isn't the only one who eats a lot. Still, there are leftovers, so I know what I'll be eating the rest of the weekend, while I'm home with the baby. Actually, I'll be "home" at Sam's apartment, my old place. And, yes, it's tempting to have Walter over, but I remember how time-consuming taking care of a baby is. Not to mention that I don't exactly look glamorous doing it.

After dinner, Tony makes the four of us help him carry everything downstairs, while Angela goes back to bed. She says she feels bloated, but then we all feel that way.

When we're done, Jonathan and Sam go upstairs to bid Angela goodbye. Then they come downstairs, he with his suitcase. (Hers is already in her car.)

"Be careful," Tony says and they look at him. "It's snowing."

"We will, Dad." Sam hugs him. "See you Sunday night."

"Bye, Tony."

Then they both hug me. I don't know why it feels like they'll be gone more than three days.

Sam kisses Val goodbye and says, "Be good with your great-granny, Baby X."

I manage not to shudder at being called "great-granny." It sounds like something from _The Beverly Hillbillies._

Walter helps me carry back the baby things that Sam brought over today. Val is sleepy so I put her down for a nap.

Walter and I do smooch in the living room for awhile, but the tryptophan is making us sleepy, too. I'll let him nap on my couch, since he's too sleepy to drive, especially in this weather. I stumble upstairs and into Sam's bed.


	34. No Fire

"I'm starting to wish we got a room with its own fireplace."

I nod. I had the heater going full blast in my car, but we were still shivering. And we had to drive extra slow because of the roads. What should've been a four and a half hour drive was more like eight. And it was completely dark by the time we made it to the ski lodge. We wanted some snow of course, for skiing, but now I'm not even sure if we'll get out on the slopes.

Of course, we might not totally mind being snowed in, but we are allegedly here to ski.

"We'll have to warm each other up," I say with a smile.

He smiles back and we kiss.

Then we crawl into bed, for the first time in sixteen months. That was summer, in his room at home. We were wearing a lot fewer clothes then.

"I kind of don't want to get naked," he admits.

I laugh and nod. "But we'll be warmer if we share body heat."

"Yeah, but first we have to expose that skin."

"Don't be a wimp, Jonathan," I say, peeling off my sweater. "Oh, it's cold!"

He smiles and then pulls me close, stroking my back and arms over my turtleneck.

"Your turn," I say.

He nods and I help him peel off his sweater. Then we snuggle again. And that's how we strip down, piece by piece, kissing more as we go along.

I feel a little self-conscious about my body. It's obviously gone through some changes since he last saw it.

But he sounds like he means it when he whispers, "You're still beautiful, Sam."

"Thank you."

We're down to our underwear, touching as much skin against skin as we can. And we start necking. It feels strange to know that we don't really have a time limit, or many other limits. And, yes, I've got some mama guilt, being away from my baby and with my boyfriend. But Jonathan and I have waited long enough.

"I brought the twenty-one leftover condoms," I say.

"Will that be enough for the weekend?" he jokes.

Dr. Hollis gave us two dozen last July but we never got to use more than three. And of course I haven't been with anyone since then. He was with Susan, but he's told me they were safe. He was HIV-tested on campus last week, because it'd been about six months since they broke up. And I'm clean of course. But we will use them as a contraceptive, on top of my diaphragm.

"Shit, I have to get out of bed to put in my diaphragm," I suddenly remember. Obviously I didn't have a chance before we left home. And so much time has passed by now, I'd have to put in fresh spermicidal gel anyway.

"I'll keep the bed warm for you."

"Thanks," I say sourly.

If this ever gets to be a more regular thing, I might switch to the Pill or something. But I don't know when we can be together after this weekend. Maybe he could stay overnight at my apartment, if our parents wouldn't freak out about it. They're not thrilled about this weekend, but it least it's not right under their noses. Well, one step at a time.

I grab a blanket off the bed and wrap it around myself. Then I get my diaphragm case and gel out of my suitcase. I also hand him a condom box and he thanks me. I head into the bathroom and prepare myself.

His preparation is simpler. He was already hard from the necking and by the time I return, he's wearing a condom, although I don't see that until I come back and he pulls me and the blanket down on top of him.

We kiss as I lie on him. He doesn't enter me immediately, but I can feel him throbbing against my leg.

Then he massages me between the legs and under my breasts. I nibble his ear because he likes that.

"Let me know when you're ready, Sam."

"Well, there's no hurry, is there?"

"Nah, I've got all night. And tomorrow. And that night and—"

Then I shift so that he's inside me.

"Or now's a good time, too."

I laugh. We're playful together. And less nervous than the first time of course. We've had months of kissing and a little more, so we're generally more comfortable together.

And, yes, we heat each other very well, certain spots in particular. And, yes, we still fit together in a way that just feels right, no matter what position we're in.

"It wasn't like this with Susan," he gasps at one point.

"I know. It wasn't with Hank either."

"It's like home. Sorry, Mantha, I mean—"

"No, I know. Welcome home, Jonny."

He laughs. "Thanks. Thanks for the warm—huh—welcome."

"You're, mmm, welcome."

He lasts longer than he did last summer. No longer the overeager virgin. In fact, the boy, sorry, the man even seems to have developed a bit of technique.

"Susan trained you well."

"And I've been reading a lot."

"Nothing like field experience though, huh?"

"Yeah."

He gets me to come a couple times before he does. We both keep chanting the word "good."

And then afterwards we hold each other tight, partly to keep warm but not only.

"I've missed this," he murmurs.

"Oh, come on, you've had sex this year, unlike me."

"I missed you."

I swallow. "I missed you, too. This with you."

"Sam, why aren't we in love?"

I laugh but I want to cry. "I don't know! Is there something wrong with us?"

"Sam you totally deserve to have someone fall in love with you."

"Thanks, so do you. But I meant is there something emotionally wrong with us that we can't make that leap?"

"I'm not sure. I think about you a lot. You're really special to me."

"I feel the same way. And we've had to deal with all these people being against us, or at least our relationship. It's brought us closer together. But not, well."

"Yeah. Maybe we don't have to be in love. But I feel kind of guilty that we're not."

"Well, at least we're both not. It'd be worse if one of was and the other wasn't."

"Yeah. How come you could say you were in love with all those other guys but not me?"

"I think I like you too much."

He laughs. "Well, thanks."

"I mean, I've known you so long. There's no mystery I guess."

"Yeah, you know me better than anyone ever has."

"Yeah. How come it was so easy for Dad and Angela?"

"If it was so easy, it wouldn't have taken years to admit it."

"I mean the being in love part."

"I don't know. I mean, you still turn me on. I still light up when I see you. But I don't think it's that kind of love."

"Yeah. I try to imagine a future with you, but it seems impossible. I mean, we're always going to be connected, just not."

"Not husband and wife connected."

"Right. I mean, you're only nineteen, I don't expect you to want to get married that young."

"You did. Tony did."

"Micellis mature earlier."

"Ah. But I mean when I think about getting married, years from now, I don't know. It's not you. I mean, it's not anyone I know. But yeah."

"I think we could have cute kids together, but I can't picture us as a long-term couple."

"Uh, you did put your diaphragm in, right?'

I poke him in the ribs. "Yes. And I know that the condom didn't break or anything. I mean, I'd rather have kids with you than with any guy I know, but that's just because I like you so much. And I'm talking years and years in the future."

"You could fall in love with someone else. Get married again."

"I know. But I'm a little scared."

"So was it just that I'm convenient? Easy in that sense?"

I shake my head. "You may've been nearby, but nothing about this has been easy."

He snorts and then sighs. "Do you think we shouldn't have come? Uh, I mean."

I ignore the accidental innuendo. "No, I'm glad I'm here. I like being in your arms. I like talking like this, even if it's probably the strangest post-coital conversation either of us will ever have."

He chuckles. "Yeah. I like that we can be honest, even about this."

"Yeah. Let's just enjoy this weekend, and we'll see how we feel by the end of it. I mean, I don't want to break up."

"Me neither."

"But I think we both know this isn't for forever."

"Things don't have to be forever to be good."

"I know. It's just when they're good, it's hard not to wish they were better."

He kisses my cheek. "I know, Sam, I know."


	35. White and Black

_I'm trapped in this room, in this bed, in this life. A room, a bed, a life I've been so happy in, till the walls closed in. There's a world outside, a world I miss yet fear. My days drift in dreams and hopes and regrets. People visit. Sam, Tony, Jonathan, Mother, Dr. Hollis._

 _And two little boys, one with Italian dark brown hair, the other with the flame-colored hair of his grandmother the firecracker. They say, "Mommy, Mommy, come see, come see!" They take my hands and try to pull me out of the room. But I can't fit through the door. Mother calls me fat._

 _The walls pulse and push. It hurts, it hurts so much! But I need to get through this. I need to get back into the world._

I wake to sharp contractions!

"TONY!"

He's at the door in seconds. "Baby, are you OK?"

"It's starting!"

I don't have to explain. Although this is a month early, he knows instinctively what I mean.

"OK, what do you want me to do?"

I see that he's not fully awake. His hair is messy and his eyelids are droopy, like a little boy.

"Call Dr. Hollis and have her call the hospital. And go tell Mother."

He nods. "OK, can you pack or do you need help?"

"I'll manage."

He hesitates and then he pulls my overnight bag off the top shelf in the closet and then helps me out of bed.  
"Thank you."

"Angela?"

"I'll be fine. Go tell everyone."

He nods and then races out of the room. I hope he wakes up enough to put on a coat and shoes. He's just in his pajama bottoms, my gorgeous husband, still so perfect.

I push through the pain enough to grab what I'll need for the hospital. I'm not fully awake myself, but I remember things like a toothbrush and a hairbrush. I'm not taking very much. If I forget anything, Tony can bring it later.

Then I remember that I forgot to tell him to call the kids. "Tony!" No response. Maybe he's already over at Mother's.

I take the bag and go out into the hallway, making my way slowly to the extension on the phone stand. I feel like I'm walking through mud, or quicksand. I set down the bag and call the hotel where the kids are staying. (They left the number on this stand as well as in the kitchen.) Our line is free, but I can't get through. I try again. Then I call the operator.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but phone lines are down in northern Vermont. The snow hit harder there than in Connecticut."

"Oh. Snow in Stowe?" Why am I rhyming?

"Yes. You can try again later."  
"Of course. Thank you."

After I hang up, Tony comes racing up the stairs. "Baby, why are you out of bed on your own?"

"I was trying to call the kids."

"Trying?" He scowls. "What, they couldn't stop whatever they were doing in order to answer the phone?"

"No, the lines are down. Vermont has lots of snow."

"Oh. Well, I'll have Mona try to reach them later."

"OK. It doesn't really—OH, SHIT!" I want to collapse from the sudden spasm of pain.

"Baby, we've got to get you to the hospital."

I nod and bite my lip.

"Lean on me."  
"When I'm not strong?"

He smiles a little. Then he picks up my bag and he escorts me downstairs, serenading me with his beautifully husky voice. It distracts me a little.

We're about to go outside when I say, "We need coats. And shoes."

"Yeah, sorry. You wait right here."

"Where would I go?"

I brace myself on a chair while I wait for him to return. He's still climbing into his coat, but he helps me into mine and then into my shoes.

"OK, it's just a little ways to the Jeep. Here we go." He guides me out into the driveway. At least it's stopped snowing. I hope it clears in Vermont, but I can't worry about that right now.

I see Mother and Walter standing by the Jeep, fully dressed. Val is in Mother's arms, well bundled up for this early first winter.

Despite the pain, I take Val from Mother and cuddle and kiss her. I need to see and hold a healthy, happy baby right now.

"Dear, you need to get going so you can bring two more home."

I nod. "Yes, Mother."

I pass Val to Walter so that I can hug Mother.

"You're strong. You can do this," she whispers to me.

I nod. "Thank you, Mummy." I squeeze tight before I let go.

Tony says, "Can you two call the kids later? The phone lines are down in Vermont and we couldn't get through."  
"Of course," Walter says, but Mother says, "Are the roads going to be clear enough for them to get back?"

"It's got to melt sometime," Tony says.  
"You be careful driving, too, Tone."

"Of course, I've got precious cargo."

I smile at him. I need his corniness right now. And then another strong contraction shakes me.

"Tony, go!" Mother orders.

He nods and quickly but carefully gets me into the car. Mother passes in the suitcase and then waves goodbye.

And then we're on our way.

"What time is it?"

He glances at his wrist and then says, "I forgot to put on a watch. But I think my clock said midnight when you woke me."  
"Oh. We should probably be timing the contractions, shouldn't we?"

"Yeah. But I'm taking you to the hospital even if you're not going into labor for another few days. We need to get you checked out, find out why this is happening so early."

"Sometimes twins come early."

"Yeah, but a whole month?"

I frown, partly at his words and partly at a mild jolt of pain.

"I mean, I'm sure it's fine, but we need to be sure."  
"Just get me to the hospital, Tony!"

We don't talk for awhile after that. I'm too lost in the pain. The night is white and black, snow on the black road, white stars in the dark sky.

I want to comfort Tony. This can't be easy seeing me like this. But I'd have to be a separate person. I hope the kids can make it, although they're hours away. Or maybe Mother can find someone to watch Val. I'd feel better knowing that she was there to help Tony get through this. And, OK, I wish my mummy was with me.

"Angela, we need to talk."

Oh God, not now!

He glances over at me and sees my annoyed expression. "No, Baby, about names. For the twins."

"Oh, right. I guess Dancer and Donner aren't going to cut it anymore, are they?"

"Well, they'd be fun at parties."

I laugh although I probably shouldn't. "Cranberry and Stuffing?"

"Angela."  
"How about Tom?"

"As in turkeys?"  
"Yes."

"Well, maybe."  
"You want one to be Tony, Jr., don't you?"  
"Well, yeah, unless that might make his brother feel left out."

"Anthony Matteo?"

He smiles. "That's nice. The same initials as me, but without the Morton."

"Right."

"Roberto for your dad?"

I smile, remembering my father teasing me about my crushes on Fabian and Frankie Avalon, saying, "I'm going to get Italian grandkids someday." He didn't know I'd kissed Anthony Micelli that summer.

"Roberto Angelo?"

"That's very sweet, thank you."

"Well, we're never gonna have a daughter, right? I'd like one of our kids to be named after you."

Passing on my name has never been that important to me. After all, my agency is named after my ex-husband, if you think about it, even though he wasn't exactly supportive of my career.

"I love you, Tony."

"I love you so much, Angela! God, when are we gonna get there?" He bangs the steering wheel.

"I should've conceived in Italy. The roads were better in the Spring."

"Yeah."

"But we'll get there, maybe a little late, but we always reach our destination."  
"Yeah. Too bad our sons haven't inherited my sloooooooowness."

I laugh hard, not caring if it hurts. I'd rather hurt and feel good, if that makes sense.


	36. Snowed In

"Has it stopped snowing?"

I move away from the window. "Not yet." It almost feels like we have to spend the weekend in bed. We did go downstairs this morning, for the complimentary breakfast, but there really doesn't seem to be any chance of going outside today. And we can't watch TV because the reception is terrible right now.

Not that I'm complaining. And even though Sam and I have agreed that this isn't going to build into the romance of the century, we still like each other and we still like going to bed together.

"Come back to bed! I'm freezing!"

"Sweet-talker." But I come back to bed, and not just because I'm freezing, too.

We snuggle up and stroke each other's bare skin. It's not foreplay or afterplay. It's just enjoying each other's body.

She is changed from sixteen months ago, but I knew she would be. In some ways, she's more beautiful than before, like her body has more stories, if that makes sense.

"You've filled out a little," she remarks.

"Yeah?"

"It must be from lifting all those heavy computers. And snakes."

"Yeah." I kiss her.

"You're still a skinny geek though."

"Thank you." I tickle her.

She tickles me back. And then we start wrestling. We never roughhoused like this when we were kids, maybe because she was older, or maybe because she was a girl. I guess we had to get to this level of being comfortable together.

But at some point it crosses over into foreplay and I become gentler with her, while her teasing is, well, more teasing. Instead of digging into my ribs, she flicks my nipples with her fingertips and then her tongue.

"Sam!" I breathe, stroking her short hair. And then I cup her full breasts from underneath and then squeeze upwards.

When we spent that summer night and morning together, I really didn't know what I was doing. She had to talk me through the whole thing and I still didn't really get it. I didn't date Susan just to practice for Sam, but I inevitably learned some things. She said I was the most attentive boyfriend she ever had, which made me feel guilty because I wasn't entirely present in that relationship, although I honestly I did try. Finally, I decided to stop kidding myself.

Yes, Susan was surprised and hurt. I feel guilty about that, too. Still, I don't regret the break-up, even if things aren't going to develop into more with Sam. They weren't with Susan either, and it was fairer to both of us to end it before.

"Jonathan, focus," Sam reminds me.

"Sorry."

"I'm not boring you, am I?"

"You never bore me, Sam."

"Aww, Jonny!" She kisses me softly on the lips.

And then I wrestle her so that she's on her back. She laughs.

We make out a long while. We're not in any hurry of course. This is only Friday, and we're not leaving till Sunday. Assuming the roads are clear. If not, um, I guess I'll have to call someone at Yale to let them know I'm snowed in. Not Kyle, he's pretty unhelpful.

Well, I'm not going to worry about it right now. Right now I'm playing with Sam and slowly letting things build.

When we're ready, she puts the next condom on me. Yeah, we'll still have nineteen more after this.

My favorite moment of sex is the first entrance, just like my favorite part of an apple is the first bite. It's always better than I remember. Not that the later bites aren't good, too.

I'm getting better at enhancing it for her. Not just the obvious things, but I've noticed that girls like things like having their faces stroked, making eye contact. Women like to feel special. Well, Sam is special. I'm not just doing this because I'm supposed to, but because I want to show her I care, even if I'm not in love with her.

"You're the nicest guy I'll never fell in love with."

I smile and then kiss her neck. "You are the sexiest woman I'll ever have sex with."

She chuckles. And then I tease her spine until she gasps. Then she does the things she knows will speed up my orgasm, knowing also that I will not just fall asleep and forget about her, not this early in the day.

"I like to see you come," she says after I do. "I mean your face."

"I bet it looks silly."

"No sillier than usual."

She gets more tickles for that. But also some rubs and strokes of a kinder sort.

Her orgasmic face is amazing. Like she's having a religious experience, if that's not blasphemous to say. It's a hell of an ego boost to bring it out in her, but I also just like the idea of making her feel that good. If I can do it more than once, all the better.

I do nap after awhile, but she does, too, snuggling up against me. We're not afraid to be affectionate or playful or whatever. Somehow saying we're not in love has freed us. Plus all the kissing and hand-holding and hugging these last few months has, again, made us more comfortable. Maybe we're too comfortable together, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.

 _I dream of skiing down a mountain, shushing along. It's really easy, although I'm not a great skier in real life. (Sam is better.) Things are fine, until the avalanche._

I wake up to the phone ringing. Sam is closer so she answers. "Hello?"

Then she sits straight up.

"Sam?"

She covers the mouthpiece of the phone. "It's Mona!"

"Why would my grandmother be calling us?" She's the last person I'd expect to ruin a naughty ski trip. Then I wake up more. "Is Val OK?"

She uncovers the mouthpiece. "Mone, is Val OK? Oh, good. Yeah, he's right here." She holds the phone so I can hear, too.

"OK, Jonathan. And Sam. I don't want either of you to worry—"

"Grandma, please don't start out like that."

"Sorry. But your mother has gone into early labor."

"Oh, shit!" Sam whispers.

"A month early?"

"Yes. She's at the hospital right now. I called Bonnie, who's on her way over to watch Val."

"But Bonnie has a job at the Fairfield Inn and she works weekends."

"She told them it's a family emergency."

I say, "Just not her family."  
"God, Bonnie's awesome!" Sam says.

"Yes, she is. I'll go to the hospital as soon as she gets here."

"When did the labor start?" I ask.

"Last night around midnight."

"Why didn't you call us?" Sam demands.

"We tried, but Vermont phone lines were down. Walter and I have been taking turns, calling you every hour."

"Walter is awesome," I murmur.

"He'll do. Now how are the roads up there?"

I go look out the window again. "It's not snowing but the roads look bad."

Sam relays this to Grandma, then tells me, "She says we shouldn't come back till it's safe. She'll call again in a few hours to give us an update."

I nod.

Then Sam tells me, "She says that sometimes twins come early, and this not being Angela's first birth speeds things up, too."

"OK."

"I love you, too, Mone. I know. Goodbye. Get some sleep when you can."

After Sam hangs up, she comes over to the window. I've just been standing here, sort of lost in my thoughts but going blank, if that makes sense. She hugs me and I kiss her cheek.

"What are you thinking, Geek?"

"I don't know, Mallrat. I feel a little guilty for being here with you."

She nods. "Yeah. But this isn't our fault. We couldn't have foreseen this."

"I know."

"We can't do anything for her right now."

"I know."

"Come back to bed, Jonny."

"Mantha, I—"

"I know. But it won't change anything. I mean, not for the worse."

So she takes me by the hand and leads me back to bed. She kisses and caresses me, and I kiss and caress her. And then when it's building and we're almost ready, she says, "Oh, shit, I have to put fresh spermicide in!"

I laugh really hard. "Oh, Sam."

"You wouldn't think it was so funny if you were the one risking your second unintended pregnancy in a year and a half."

"Well, no, but I mean we do have nineteen condoms, Sam."

"Yeah, but who knows how long we'll be snowed in."

Now I feel guilty that that turns me on. But I'm a nineteen-year-old guy, so the guilt doesn't interfere.

Once we're fully protected, we pick up where we left off. And soon we're moving our bodies together, and it is comforting. I mean, it's not just comforting but it is good to be physical like this. I don't know that hugging would've been enough.

And then we take a nap till the next time Grandma calls.


	37. Shoulder

"Mona, why didn't you tell them?" Walter asks as he starts the car. (I'm too nervous to drive. I don't know how Tony managed it last night, with the snowy roads no less!)

"Well, Bonnie doesn't need to know, does she?"

"You know who I mean."

I sigh. "There's no point in their knowing when they probably won't be able to come home today and maybe not even tomorrow."

"But is that fair to them? It's going to come as a terrible shock when they find out that her labor is so difficult."

"Walter, this is my family. Butt out!"  
"You wanna drive?"

"I'm sorry. You've been wonderful about everything."

"It's OK, Mona. You're understandably on edge."  
"That is one of the great understatements of the century."  
He smiles a little. I don't have to explain my jokes to him.

"Besides, what if everything turns out OK? Then they'll have worried for nothing."

"You mean like you're doing?"  
"It is the parent's job to worry, not the child's. Oh, and if you tell Tony or Angela that I worried, that's it, we're through."  
"Don't worry, I know you too well to do that."

I'm not used to dating someone who knows me. It's not just that we go back so far, although that helps. Less to explain.

And he let me get what sleep I could last night, trying to reach the ski lodge while I napped. Tony was surprised when Walter answered the door at midnight but too sleepy and distracted to ask about it. I'm very lucky Walter stayed over.

Poor Tony, all alone at the hospital. And Angela, my baby! Not alone but going through something that, no matter how many people are there, you really do do on you own.

"She's a fighter, Tony," I told him, when we last spoke, before I got through to the kids.

"I know, Mone, but she's also so vulnerable! And this—God, Mone!" His voice was horrible, a mixture of tears and fear and no sleep.

"She's strong but she needs you to be strong for her."  
"I can't, Mone, I can't!"

"Yes, you can. Tony, you believe in God, don't you?"  
"Yeah, of course! What kind of question is that?"  
"Then pray for her. You find a quiet corner and pray till I get there."

"Yeah, I'll pray," he mumbled.

I'd never heard him like this, and it scared me as much as what he'd told me she was going through. He was like a lost child, with no one to comfort him.

When we get to the hospital, we quickly go to the reception desk.

"Excuse me, I'm Angela Micelli's mother and—"

"Oh, I'll page Dr. Hollis."

I don't like the sound of that. I wordlessly look at Walter, and he wordlessly hugs me. He keeps holding me until Dr. Hollis shows up.

"Mrs. Robinson?"

"Yes. This is Mr. Nordstrom."  
"Good to meet you. Could you both come with me?"

I appreciate her not questioning who he is or why he's here. However, that still doesn't set my mind at ease about whatever she has to say.

She takes us to a small unoccupied room. I look at the empty bed and ask, "Where's Angela?"  
"This isn't her room."  
"That's not what I asked.

She grimaces. She's my age or maybe five years younger, but the grimace makes her look much older. "I can see you don't want me to ease into this."  
"Into what?" I demand.

"It was a very difficult labor, very. More than I expected, even given Angela's age and its being a multiple birth."

"And?"

Faintly, she says, "Angela bled. A lot. We're doing what we can for her, but she is in critical condition."  
"OH GOD!"  
Walter takes my hand and squeezes it, hard.

"And one of the twins, he, well, he died."

This can't be happening. It cannot be happening.

"The other is a little fighter. Angela is, too, of course."

"Where is she? Take me to my daughter!"

"I can't. Not yet. I'm sorry. But I think you need to see Tony."  
"Oh, God, Tony!" Horrible as I feel for Angela, his pain is something I can fathom, relate to. "Take me to Tony!"

"Of course. But not quite yet."  
"Jesus, what kind of sadist, are you?"

She grimaces again and says, "I need you to cry, Mrs. Robinson."

"What?"

"I need you to cry it all out and then you can go see Tony and be strong for him."

"That's not how I work, Sister! Now take me to my son-in-law!"

She smiles a little. "I see where they get the toughness from."

"Thank you. Now where is he?"

She leads me down the hallway to the meditation room. "He's in there. I'll send someone for you if there are any changes."  
"Thank you. And I'm sorry."  
She shrugs. "I'd feel the same if it were my daughter."

After she walks away, Walter opens the door for me and we quietly go in. Tony is sitting in a corner, his head in his hands. My heart breaks even more for him, but I can't let it show.

Walter pats my shoulder but he doesn't move further into the room. I know that's his way of saying that he's here if I need him, but he's also aware of the friendship that Tony and I have always shared, beyond the typical mother-in-law and son-in-law. (Not that I have much to compare it to of course.)

Tony is so lost in his grief that he doesn't seem to notice me till I put my hand on his shoulder. Then he jumps and I want to laugh but I can't.

"I'm here, Tone."  
"Oh, Mona!" His face is anguished. I've never seen him even close to this miserable. I don't know if I can do this.

But I have to. "Dr. Hollis told me, Tony."

Then he starts crying, huge racking sobs. I want to tell him that Angela and the other baby will be OK, but I don't know that, and I don't want to say it and then be wrong.

"I prayed, Mone! I prayed like you said. And God did this!"

"Oh, Tony."

"I'm a bad person. He's punishing me."  
"Don't be stupid. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know. And God doesn't work that way."

Then he sobs against me, like a confused little boy. I rock him in my arms like I'm the mother he lost over 35 years ago. I know that his grief for her, and for his father, and of course for poor Marie, is part of what he's feeling.

After awhile, the sobs subside and he sits up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry. I'm so selfish! She's your daughter and I'm making it all about me."

"It's OK, Tone. Seeing you cry keeps me from doing it, and then I don't have to worry about my mascara."

He gasps in shock that I can joke even now, but he then he almost smiles.

Then Walter comes over and silently offers Tony his handkerchief.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Tony, have you gotten any sleep?"

"How can I sleep?"

"Nothing is going to happen for awhile. You need to rest."

He shakes his head.

"Tony, this isn't helping Angela."  
"I can't help her. I can't do anything for her. I'm useless."

"I told you not to be stupid. Angela adores you. You are one of the reasons she's fighting for her life right now."

He winces.

"Mona," Walter says gently, putting his hand on my shoulder, but I shake him off.

"Do you remember what you said before the Senate four and a half years ago?"

He blushes. "You mean about her natural scent?"

"No. You quoted poetry."

"Oh, right."

"Why did he quote poetry in the Senate?"

I shake my head. That's a story for another time. " 'Do not go gentle into that good night/ Rage, rage against the dying of the light.' Angela is not going. She's raging. You have to believe in her."

"But, Mone."

"Believe in her, Tony. Believe in her love for you, and for your family."

He suddenly gets angrily to his feet. "Where the hell are the kids?"

"The roads are still bad. They'll come as soon as they can."

"Yeah, right."

"Tone."

"We were supposed to be a family! That was all I ever cared about, making a family together. And now look at us!"

"We are still a family, Tony. We don't have to all be together in one place. We will always be a family."

He scowls and turns away.

I look at Walter and he says, "Tony, do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"No thanks."

"Mona?"

"I could do with some coffee."

"OK. Tony, we'll be back in a bit."

Tony shrugs like he doesn't care, and he collapses back onto the bench.

I'm afraid to leave him but I have to. Walter takes my arm and guides me to the hospital coffee shop. He gets hot chocolate, which he shares with me after I finish my coffee.

"I don't know what to do, Walter."  
"I know, Mona, I know. But you need to call the kids again."

"No!"  
"Mona, somebody has to and you can't let it be Tony. The way he's feeling, he's going to lash out at them."

I sigh. "I know. I'm just not ready for another draining conversation."

"Let's go for a walk and then you can call."

"Well, let me check on Tony again first."

"OK."  
We go back to the meditation room. Tony is curled up on the bench, sleeping.

I smile weakly. "He's such a little boy." Then I suddenly sob, thinking of my little girl and all the pain she's in. And her new little boy, struggling to hold on to the life he just entered.

Walter steers me out of the room before I can wake up Tony. And he takes me for a walk through the now barren hospital gardens, the flowers buried under snow.


	38. Crash

After Mona's second call, we couldn't anymore. We held each other a lot though. And promised not to blame each other or ourselves.

We stayed out of our room as much as we could, sometimes just sitting by the fireplace, holding hands, saying nothing. I saw people smile at us like we were such a cute young couple, not noticing we didn't smile back.

We even got out and skied for awhile. It felt good to feel the air rushing against my face, to do a sport that I could throw my mind and body into, although I don't think I summoned up any endorphins. Jonathan joked that I'd have an accident and then Tony would kill him for not stopping me from the risk. It was a horrible joke, not funny and so grim. But I knew he had to make it, and I knew how he meant it.

I did my best not to cry behind my goggles. The tears might've frozen if they escaped and ran down my face.

Today, Sunday, we could finally drive home. The roads were clearer, but we still took it slow. Jonathan again made a joke about me getting in an accident, "only this time you'd be wiping me out, too."

I wanted to say, "Shut up," like I would've done before, but I couldn't.

We left at 9 a.m. and it's taken us nine hours to get here. We ate in the car to save a little time.

He parks the car and then says, "Sam, I want you to know, I couldn't get through this without you."

I nod. I don't say, "She's sort of my mother, too. That was my little brother, too, that died." I feel like his pain is stronger. Instead I say, "Hey, you got me through the early stages of a divorce and a pregnancy. I kind of owe you."

He smiles a little and then tenderly kisses me. I don't say that this may be the last time we kiss. I just kiss back as if it is.

Then we get out of the car and walk in, not touching.

We go to the reception desk.

"Hi, I'm Angela Bow—Micelli's son."

The receptionist nods but before she can page anyone or even say anything, Mona sweeps us both into a tight hug, like she's been waiting for us.

Then Jonathan starts crying. He says, "Grandma!" like he's a little kid.

She kisses his cheek and then mine. She has to stand on tiptoes for him. I never did get taller than her. I'm the shrimp of the family. Well, except for Val and my surviving little brother. Assuming he is surviving.

"How are—?" I can't say it.

"They're still kicking."

I love her. I love how she put that. And that means both of them, Angela and the other twin. I wish that they were well, but that will take time. I try to concentrate on the fact that they're alive.

And then Jonathan asks, "How's Tony?"

And I feel terrible. Dad, poor Dad! This must be killing him!

She lets go. "He's in the meditation room. He's sort of camped out there."

I want to laugh. "Camped out? In the meditation room?"

"He refuses to go home. He wants to sleep in Angela's room, but they won't let him yet."

"Poor Tony," Jonathan whispers.

"We need to go see him!"  
"Sam, wait!"  
"Mona, we've been waiting for two and a half days! Excuse me," I ask the receptionist, "where's the meditation room?"

She points.

"Thank you!" I run down the hallway, ignoring Mona and Jonathan calling after me. I find the room and then tiptoe in.

Dad is sleeping, curled up like a little boy, on one of the benches. Someone brought him a blanket and pillow. I can picture the hospital staff insisting they can't allow this, and then giving in when the stubborn Taurus refused to move.

I move closer. "Dad?" I expect him to wake up and cry on my shoulder. I will be the grown-up. I will be strong for him.

But when he opens his eyes, they immediately narrow. "So!" he spits out. "You're finally here!"

"The roads were bad, Dad." I hate that that rhymes.

"You shouldn't even have gone away this weekend."

"Dad, how were we supposed to know it would happen so soon? It was only her eighth month!"

He shakes his head. "You shouldn't even be with him. God is punishing us!"

Has he gone crazy? This doesn't sound like my father. But then who knows how much this is killing him? And it's not that I don't feel guilty on my own.

"You're a little slut! You screwed your stepbrother!"

I wince. For Dad, a man who will swear "Gee whiz" at someone who cuts him off on the freeway, this is extreme profanity.

"Tony, stop!" Mona orders.

I turn. I didn't hear her and Jonathan come in.

"Stay out of this, Mona!"

Jonathan looks scared but he still comes over and takes my hand.

"This is my family, too, Tony Micelli, and I will not have you take this out on the kids!"

Dad swallows. "You're right. It's my fault. Everything, this whole horrible year."

"It's also a year with good things in it. Like the birth of your granddaughter. And your son."

He scowls. "And don't forget my daughter and my stepson falling in love."  
"We're not in love," Jonathan says quietly, although he squeezes my hand.

"You're not?"  
"No, Dad, we're not."  
"Then why the hell did you put us all through this shit? Just for a few fucks?"

"TONY!"

"You know what? I'm done. I'm sorry, Sam, I'm going back to New Haven tonight. I'll call you." Jonathan lets go of my hand.  
Dad mutters something in which all I can catch is "wimp."

To my shock, Jonathan goes and gets in Dad's face. "I'm a wimp? My mother almost died giving birth to sons to carry on your family name, and all you can do is hide in here and cry! So excuse me if I don't want you as a role model anymore. I'll come back to see my mother as soon as they let me, but I don't want to see your hypocritical face again!"  
"Jonathan!" Mona and I both exclaim.

A timid-looking woman peers in the doorway and says, "Um, excuse me, is this the meditation room?"

I want to laugh so hard that I collapse.

Mona, ever gracious, says, "We're almost through. Please just give us a few more minutes."

"I am through," Jonathan says and leaves, brushing past the confused woman.

Dad starts crying, which is scary in a different way, but easier to manage. Mona looks at me and I understand. So we two short little women escort my muscular father, with the blanket over his shoulders and the pillow in his arms, out the door. The woman gives us a sympathetic look and I try to smile back.

"Where are we going?" I whisper to Mona.

She just shakes her head. She leads both of us outside, to the garden, with flowers stubbornly sticking their heads up, breaking through the snow. It's the most hopeful sight I've seen in days.

It's too cold to sit down, so we just walk.

"I'm sorry," Dad mumbles after awhile.

I hug him from the side. "I know," I say quietly. "So am I."  
"I love you two so much. How could I say those things?"  
"It doesn't matter." I know Jonathan didn't mean to snap at Dad either.

"Will he come back?"

"Of course he will," Mona says briskly, "he has to meet his brother, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Dad says quietly.

"So how was the skiing?"  
I can't help it, I start laughing hysterically. I mean out of control hysteria.

"Should I slap her?" Dad says, and I know he means it as a joke, although there was a point in the meditation room when I really did think he was going to slap me. Not just verbally I mean.

I subside into giggles. "I should slap you. Such language, Dad!"

He frowns. "God must hate me now, if he didn't already."  
"God is a lot more forgiving than you are, Anthony Morton Micelli."

He winces, and not just at "Morton."

I ask, "Should we go in and see if they'll let us look at Anthony Morton Micelli, Jr., yet?"

Dad quietly says, "We talked about names. On the way to the hospital. First names, middle names. And the little one, the second one, died before we could even decide which was which."  
"What are you going to name your son, Tony?"

He sighs. "I'm afraid to. What if he doesn't—And then Angela! What if she doesn't—?"

"Tony, if you don't give me an answer, I'm going in there and as the grandmother I'm going to make sure they put Morton as the first name."

Dad swallows. "Well, I guess Anthony. But we were also talking about Roberto and Matteo and Angelo."  
"That's beautiful, Dad," I say softly.

"Use them all," Mona says.

"Yeah?"  
"Yeah, you're Italian, you can get away with it."

He smiles a little.

"Anthony Roberto Matteo Angelo Micelli. ARMAM," I say.

"Or make it a palindrome. MARAM for Matteo Anthony Roberto Angelo Micelli."  
He shakes his head. "I think I'll wait till I can talk to Angela before I decide on the exact order. But thank you both. And not just for the names."  
"Of course," Mona says.

"Dad, maybe it's time to go home. They can call us if anything happens."  
"Yeah, home," he says quietly, as if exhausted.

"Mona, who's with Val? Is it still Bonnie?"

"No, she had to get some sleep. Walter is looking after Val."  
That's OK. I like Walter and so does Val.

We turn in the blanket and pillow at the reception desk and then head out to the parking lot. Jonathan took my car, since he still had the keys. I was half hoping he'd be waiting by the car, and he and Dad could apologize to each other. But I guess he went home. Unless he drove my car to New Haven!

We get in Dad's Jeep. I drive.

When we get home, my car is there, but Jonathan's isn't. Mona and I look at each other, but Dad doesn't seem to notice.

"He'll be back, Dear," she whispers.

I know he will, but it won't be the same. Too much has changed now. I nod and then give them both quick hugs and head up to my apartment, eager to hold my beautiful, healthy baby.


	39. Healing

Like I hoped, my face is the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes. They had her doped up for a long time, while she was healing. Not that she's all well now, but she's doing better. She's a survivor, like everyone told me she was. I feel guilty that I didn't believe in her more. I feel guilty about a lot of things.

"Tony," she breathes.

"Hi, Angela."

She smiles a little. Then she asks, "Where are Mother and the kids?"

"Mona's out in the hall. Sam's at home with Val. And, uh, Jonathan's at school, but he can drive back tonight."

"Oh. Well, send Mother in."  
"Not just yet." I hate that I have to do this but I'm making myself do it, as punishment. Yes, Dr. Hollis offered to tell her, but I know I have to be the one.

"Tony? What is it? Is it the babies?"

I swallow. "Yeah. The hospital did everything they could, but only one of them survived."

To my shock, she smiles. "One lived? Oh, Tony!"

"Angela?"

"I had nightmares that they both died, that I was going to die. Oh, Tony, they saved our baby!"

I hadn't even thought of it that way. It's been hard to feel grateful for Tony, Jr., as I've been calling him in my head. I make myself smile back a little. "Yeah, one lived."

"Oh, but we lost the other! Oh, Tony!" She starts crying.

I take her hand and squeeze it. I want to give her a big hug and not let go, but she's still so fragile.

"And you had to go through this and worry about me! Oh, Tony!"

I shake my head. "Don't worry about me, you're the one who was suffering."

"Tony," she murmurs and squeezes my hand.

"And I couldn't do anything for you." I remember how I hurt her over Kathleen and I couldn't be the one to comfort her. This is different but it's also one hundred times worse.

"But you did! I'd think of you, how much I loved you! And that got me through the worst parts. And the children and Mother of course. Oh, Tony, please bring Mother in!"

"Yeah, OK." I let go of her hand. I go and open the door. Mona is waiting there, Walter holding her hand. He's a good guy, I like him. I think he's what she needs, which means she'll probably dump in a couple more months.

They let go of each other's hand. Mona goes in but Walter stays seated.

"Mummy!" I hear Angela cry, and then Mona reply, "It's OK, Baby, I'm here."

I shut the door and sit next to Walter. "I couldn't tell her everything," I confess to him. "I mean about the awful things I said to the kids."

"Why do you need to tell her that?"

"She should know that I'm not the wonderful guy she thinks I am."  
"You are, most of the time. And I don't think you'll ever say those things again."

I shake my head. "I don't ever want to act that ugly again. Jonathan still won't speak to me. The funny thing is, I said worse things to Sam, and she forgave me right away."

"I think," Walter says slowly, "he does love her, though not in an in-love sense. Maybe she can forgive you because she's your daughter and understands you. But you were rude to his girlfriend."

"Yeah, I was, wasn't I? He should've beaten me up."  
"Why kick a man when he's down?"

"But I hate the silent treatment!"  
"Well, then I guess that's why he's chosen it. Or maybe he doesn't want to say anything ugly back."  
"You know, you're a wise man."  
Walter shrugs. "I'm old. It comes with the territory."  
"Then there's still hope for me in a few years?"

"I think so."

Mona pokes her head out. "Tony, can you come back in? You two need to discuss baby names."

The last time Angela and I discussed baby names, it was for two babies. Yesterday, Mona and Sam were trying to convince me to make it an even longer palindrome of initials: Matteo Roberto Anthony Angelo Robinson Micelli. I said he'd go broke if he ever got monograms.

But I go in and Mona returns to Walter.

"Anthony Roberto Micelli," Angela says immediately.  
"You sure?"

"Yes, that's one name from each side. We don't have to pass on every name, do we? I mean, we could throw in Aldo and my uncles if we want to get really carried away."

"True." I can't see naming a kid Cornelius. Maybe Archie.

To my surprise, she giggles. "Of course, his initials will be ARM."  
I smile a little. "We could switch it around, Roberto Anthony Micelli, RAM. But that would be better if he were an Aries."

"Oh, that's right. We've got a Sagittarius instead of a Capricorn."

 _Capricorns_ , I think but don't say.

"That's, um, fire I think. Like Sam."  
"Right, she's a Leo."

"And you are of course my earthy Taurus. And Jonathan, Val, and I are air signs, Aquarius and Gemini."  
"Yeah," I say quietly.

"Mother is Cancer, water."

Why are we talking about astrology? This is not what I expected.

"Tony, Aquariuses are very stubborn, too, in their way. You need to talk things out with Jonathan."

I stare at her. "How did you know? Did Mona say something?" How could she! Especially when Angela is recovering.

"I know you, Tony. I see the guilt in your eyes, all kinds of guilt. I don't think you're ready to talk to me about it, and I'm afraid I'm not ready to hear about it. But something happened when you were all worried about me and the twins, didn't it?"

"Yeah," I say quietly.

"Everybody needs to heal," she murmurs sleepily.

"Yeah. Baby, you get some rest and I'll go call Jonathan."

"OK," she yawns.

I quietly go back out into the hall. Mona hugs me and then hands me a quarter.

"What's that for?"

"To call Jonathan."

"Were you eavesdropping?"

"No, but I know you."

I've prided myself on how well I know this family, but it turns out that they know me, too. And for some reason, they still love me. Maybe even Jonathan does.

"Thanks."

I find a payphone and call Jonathan's dorm room. Maybe he'll be in class or at the library. Maybe his roommate that he doesn't get along with too well will answer. I don't know what message I'd leave.

After two rings, I hear Jonathan's wary "Hello?"

I swallow and then say, "Come home, Pal-o-Mine."

"Tony?"  
"Who else calls you that?"

"No one."  
"Yeah. Your mom's awake, or she was. She's taking a nap. You need to see her. And we'll take her and your little brother home as soon as we can."

"Tony, what do you mean come home? I've been visiting the house. And the hospital."  
"Come live in the house. Commute to Yale. I want us to be a family." I'm trying so hard not to cry.

"What about Sam?"

"She can keep living over the garage with Val."

"That's not what I mean."  
"You two be what you need to be to each other. I'll try to keep my mouth shut about it."  
"I'm not asking for miracles, Tony."

I laugh and say, "You rotten kid!"  
"Hey, blame my parents for how I turned out."

"Well, I do blame Michael."  
"Yeah, the absentee father."  
"Right."

"Tony, I'll finish out the Fall in the dorm, and then when I come home for Christmas, I'll stay. Till graduation, if that's how it works out."  
"Good."

"I've got a class in ten minutes, but I'll drive over to the hospital after."

"OK, I'll be here."

"See you then."

"Goodbye, Jonathan. I love you."  
"I love you, too, Tony."

We haven't said that in a long time, not in words. It's hard when your son grows up.

After we hang up, I go visit my other son. He's put on a little weight and got some color in his cheeks, but he's still so tiny.

Mona comes in quietly and softly says, "He looks like you."

"He's got red hair!"

"Lucky boy."

I chuckle, then I sigh. "Mona, what if I make mistakes with this one?"

"Then you'll be a normal parent. I mean, look at all the mistakes I made with Angela, and she still turned out OK."

"She's perfect."  
To my surprise, she says, "She is." Then she adds, "But don't tell her I said that."

"Your secret's safe with me, Mone."


	40. Angels

_"Should I put you at the top of the Christmas tree, Little Angel?"_ _  
_ _I giggle. "No, Daddy, I'm too big!"_

 _"Yes, you're my Big Angel now. So heavy!" He sets me down with a thud, making me giggle._

 _"Daddy, Daddy, look where Mummy's standing!"_ _  
_ _"Hm, under the mistletoe. Now how did that happen?"_

 _"You have to kiss her, Daddy."_ _  
_ _"Oh, all right." But he scoops me up again and they both kiss my cheek before kissing each other on the lips like married people have to._

I wake up with a smile and snuggle up against Tony. We still can't make love because I'm healing, and it would've been too soon even with an easier labor, but when I came home from the hospital, I insisted to both him and Dr. Hollis that I needed his warmth beside me every night. Yes, it gets frustrating for him, but he told me he'd rather have me around to frustrate him than not. And we can still kiss and cuddle, which is more than we usually had in the old separate-bedrooms days.

"G'morning," he murmurs, burying his nose in my hair, not as foreplay but as self-comfort. We haven't talked much about how he felt when he thought he'd lose me, but I know, because it's how I'd feel.

"Good morning, My Darling." I turn my head and kiss his cheek.

"You're happy, Angela," he whispers.

"Yes. I am." It doesn't mean my postpartum depression is gone. One thing I've learned from Dr. Hollis and my old therapist Dr. Bellows is that depression isn't an every-moment sort of thing. Sometime the clouds break, sunshine shines through. It's not easy, having lost one baby, having almost lost my life. But I am so lucky in other ways.

"Then I am, too." He's been talking to Father Marconi a lot, driving down to Brooklyn once or twice a week, or sometimes talking things out on the phone. He's got his own issues to work through.

"In normal families," Jonathan observed the other night, "the parents drive their kids into therapy. But we drove our parents into it."  
It's not their fault of course, but as Sam said, "We didn't help." They've got their own scars from this year, but the main thing is we survived.

"Merry Christmas, Tony."

He grins. "Hey, yeah, Bobby's first Christmas!" he exclaims, like he's only just realized.

We were going to nickname the baby "Little Tony," but then decided against it considering the memories of Hank's puppet of that name. Officially, he's Tony, Jr., but in the house he's Bobby. It just seems to fit. Tony has asked Bobby Governale to be godfather, and Bobby G. thinks the middle name is in honor of him, not my father.

Tony first asked Jonathan to be godfather, but he said, "Tony, I'm honored, but I think you should have a Catholic man do it."

Sam will be godmother, even though she said, "Are you sure, Dad? I'm not that devout. Maybe you should get Mrs. Rossini."

He said, "You'll be there for him even when he's grown up. I want him to have a young godmother."

The baptism will be after the New Year but before Jonathan starts classes again. He's going to live at home. I'm glad. I like that we're all together again, at least for now.

But Jonathan and Sam are no longer "together." They're still close, still best friends, but they're given up on a romantic relationship.

I've talked to both of them about it, one-on-one. They assured me it's not Tony's fault, or mine. It just not going to lead to more, and Jonathan wants to concentrate on school, Sam on her career and Val.

"I don't regret it. Jonathan's really special and I'm glad I got to know him in a new way. I don't mean in bed," she added with a blush.

He said, "I'm really lucky, Mom. I used to wonder what it'd be like to date her, and I got to find out. And I still care about her, in some ways more than before."

The neighbors have been kinder lately. Well, some of them were always kind, although it was hard to see sometimes. They bring over baked goods and flowers. And the gossip has died down, overshadowed by Matteo's death.

We named the son we lost, although I never really got to know him. They tell me he had dark brown fuzz on top, instead of flame-red like Mother's. Rest in Sweet Peace, Matteo Angelo Micelli, my littlest baby.

His brother is definitely not peaceful. He starts crying now and Tony and I look at each other in love and exhaustion. We've both been looking after him, with help from Mother and the kids. Work outside the home is on hold for both of us right now. Bobby takes a lot out of me, when I don't have a lot to give, but I am so glad he's here, so glad he was spared.

Tony and I both get up. He helps me into my robe and then puts on his own. We head down the hallway, to Billy's old room. Billy is ten now. He's so tall! He still looks like Tony. He's coming to the baptism, as are Mrs. Rossini, Al, Charlie, and a lot of other Brooklynites, past and present. I've invited Wendy and a few other trusted friends, like Dr. Hollis.

Sam asked if she could invite Fran and Joe and of course we said yes. We recently found out that they're the ones who kept Hank from suing Sam for custody of Val. He's definitely dropped the idea now, although he's still not happy about Sam and Jonathan and doesn't believe it's over for good. (Neither does Mother, but she's a born matchmaker.) Only time will tell I guess.

Tony and I leave our room, and Mother and Jonathan poke their heads out of their rooms. "Need any help?" they both ask.

Tony says, "No, we've got it."  
"Can we go down and open the gifts now?"

Still such a child! "Yes, Mother, you can open one gift each."

Mother races downstairs. Jonathan smiles.

"Merry Christmas, Mom. Pop."

"You, too, Son."  
Tony and Jonathan have started calling each other "Pop" and "Son," partly jokingly and partly sincerely. I know they had a serious argument when I was in critical condition, but I don't know the full details. They patched it up somehow. I know people say men don't talk about their feelings to each other, but these two might've.

Jonathan comes over and kisses my cheek. He's taller than me now. I'm not sure when that happened. "I'll go down and restrain Grandma from shaking all the gifts."

"She'll be sorry when she finds out I gave her a Dresden shepherdess," I joke.

Tony pats Jonathan's shoulder and then our middle child heads downstairs. We go to our youngest, whose cries fade when he sees me.

I am Bobby's center of the universe. I wish I could nurse him but it was too late by the time I was ready. Sam joked that if she'd only known, she'd have held off on weaning Val and become Bobby's wetnurse. But, while I miss the special bonding, I like that everyone in the family can bottle-feed Bobby, like with Val now.

Bobby knows that I'm his mommy. I think he even knows that he entered the world through me. He seems to love all of us, but I am the most special. It's a nice feeling. And he is precious to me, so precious. Not that the others aren't, but Bobby and I went through hell together and came out the other side.

I sit in the rocking chair, holding Bobby and feeding him, pretending it's from my body. I'm not sure how I would've managed twins. I'll never know now.

Tony sits on the stool, gazing at us like we're the most incredible sight he's ever seen. I remember when he went through a "doting" phase, soon after we became a couple, and he would even like to watch me eat. This isn't creepy like that. I know what's behind it, that he thought he was going to lose both of us because he lost Matteo. I'm sure in time it will fade, like everything else.

When the three of us are ready, we head downstairs, only to catch Mother, Jonathan, and Sam tearing open the presents. And Val is sitting in a corner, ripping the discarded paper and ribbons and cackling like a witch or a mad scientist.

I think of my only-childhood and that Christmas of forty years ago. It was so magical, with my kind, handsome father and my vivacious, beautiful mother. Not to mention all those presents, just for me!

But this is better. Not perfect, but enough.


	41. Epilogue

"Everybody, this is Brandon. Brandon, this is everybody."

"Uh, could you break that down a little more?"

I sigh. I knew this would happen if we dated long enough. "Does anyone have a pen and paper?" This is not really something I can do easily on my smartphone.

"Here you go, Sweetheart." Of course, the 4th-grade teacher does.

"Thanks, Nonno." I kiss his cheek (I'm taller than he is now, taking after Dad in that way), grab the pen and paper, and drag my boyfriend off to a relatively quiet corner of the carnival.

Brandon grins as I start writing down names and drawing lines. I love his smile. "You don't have to make a family tree."

"No, trust me, I do. OK, this is me. And of course you've already met my mom and Julie."

"Wait, you and Julie have different dads?"

"Yeah, I'll get to that. OK, Nonno is Mom's dad."  
"That's Italian for 'grandfather,' right?"

I smile. Brandon's a WASP but he does his best to be multicultural. "Uh huh. Nonno Tony was married to Marie, but she died when Mom was little. Years later, he married Angela."  
"That's the blonde who looks great for her age?"

I chuckle. "Yeah. And the redhead who looks great for her age is Mona, Angela's mom." I draw them onto the paper.

"And is the really old guy your step-great-grandfather?"

"Yeah. Well, sort of my step-step-great-grandfather. Walter is Mona's second husband. And Eric, the guy who's losing his hair and has a goatee, is his grandson."

"I thought Eric was your mom's boyfriend."  
I sigh. "He is. He and Mom dated like 25 years ago, when they were teenagers." I think about explaining how they then found out that Walter and Mona were engaged ages ago, back in the late '40s, but it's too much to get into at the moment.

"So is Eric Julie's dad?"

I shake my head. "I'll get to that."

"So, wait, Eric and your mom are step-cousins?"

"Um, yeah."  
"Interesting."

Thank God he's not disgusted, because it gets worse.

"So who are the two people our age?"

"Um, the redhead is my Uncle Thunder."  
"Uncle Thunder?!"

"Yeah, it's his nickname, for Anthony, Jr. He's nine months younger than I am. Nonno and Grangela had him late." I won't mention Uncle Matteo, Thunder's twin who died right after being born.

"Grangela?"

"Yeah, I call her that sometimes, because she's my step-grandmother. You know, Granny Angela?"

"Got it. And the girl with the pink hair?"

"That's his girlfriend Storm."  
"Thunder and Storm?"

"Her real name is Miranda. Um, she's the daughter of Angela's first husband, Michael, by his second wife." I quickly draw them on.

"OK. Um, not directly related?"

"No, not directly." They just have a half-brother in common.

"So what about the gay couple?"

"Oh, well, the blond one is my Uncle Jonathan, Angela's son by Michael. And that's his boyfriend Clint."

"And how is Clint related?" Brandon teases.

"Well, Nonno and Grangela babysat for him a long time ago, before they were a couple."

"OK. So who's Julie's father?"

I sigh. "It's my Uncle Jonathan."

"Wait, isn't he gay? And your mom's stepbrother?"

How much do I tell him, to the accompaniment of a calliope and people screaming on the Tilt-a-Whirl? Do I tell him that they dated years ago, when I was a baby?

Mom likes to joke, "I turned him gay," and Jonathan will joke back, "No, it was just that I knew no woman could fill your shoes."

In more serious moments, he's told me how he was in deep denial at the time, not even out to himself. "I really liked being with your mother, but I wasn't really myself, if that makes sense." And she's said, "It figures that the most sensitive guy I ever dated was gay. But it was never really about sex, even when we had sex."

"They're best friends," I tell Brandon. "And five years ago, when her biological clock was ticking and neither of them had a boyfriend, she asked him to be a sperm donor."

I wait to see his reaction. After a couple moments, he says, "So that's why Julie's blonde."

"Yep." My baby sister Juliet, a joke name that Mom chose because she and Jonathan were so star-crossed. Hell, I'm named after a holiday, so I can't judge. We did get pretty names though, Valentina Marie and Juliet Angela. (Our initials suck though. Mine is close to "vomit" and hers spell "JAM.") I finish drawing the tree. "Pretty tangled, huh?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm dating you, not your family."  
"Well, they mostly date each other."

He laughs and then we kiss.

"Val, Val, let's go on all the rides!"

Julie has no hesitation about interrupting a romantic moment. Grangela says she gets that from my mother.

I scoop up my sister and Brandon picks up the pen and paper. Then we rejoin my complicated but happy family, to celebrate the 30th anniversary of when the Micellis and the Bowers first met.

 _There's a time for love and a time for living._  
 _You take a chance and face the wind._  
 _An open road and a road that's hidden_  
 _A brand new life around the bend._

 _I shall be telling this with a sigh_

 _Somewhere ages and ages hence:_

 _Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—_

 _I took the one less traveled by,_

 _And that has made all the difference._

 **Author's Note: Thank you for reading my most depressing "Who's the Boss?" story to the very end. Extra thanks to GoldenGirlSherry, who, when I told her that the prize for the 100th review was to name Tony, Jr.'s girlfriend, came up with two full names.**


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